The Art Of Laughter
by Sweetly-Sadistic's-Romanticide
Summary: After Liz, a new agent, a psioncist, comes to the bureau with an art to living unknown to Hellboy. Seeming so human, she helps teach him how to live, love and laugh. Will he be able to keep up with his new teacher? Can he teach her forgiveness for herself
1. Chapter 1

-1Just so everyone is aware: I had no idea what a MarySue was until after I wrote this. So yeah, be nice. I hadn't meant to do it.

When the steel door banged open, revealing a very upset Liz, Hellboy knew almost immediately, that he was in big, big trouble. Her pale face was livid, flushed and furious, and her little hands were balled up in frustration. Sitting up quickly from his large bed, he watched almost timidly as she stormed up to him, still careful not to step on the tails of any cats but mercilessly stomping on Babe Ruth wrappers. Liz stopped, looking straight at him, considering how large he was sitting and how short she was standing, her dark eyes fiery and black hair frazzled from the rain outside.

At first, he didn't know what she was going to do. It might sound silly coming from a seven foot, bright red demon, but she was more than a little frightening when she was mad. Planting her hands on her slender hips, Liz closed her eyes, looked down and tried to calm herself down before she burst into flames, literally.

"Why…did…you…maim…my…tires?" she demanded, slowly and quietly, trying her hardest not to shout. Hellboy's golden eyes widened and he looked down at his hands, the large, stone one crumpling the notebook paper he had been writing on. It was going to be a letter to Liz, begging her to stay once again but he hadn't written anything yet. He wasn't great at begging.

"Er…I…I, uh…I didn't?" he responded a bit dumbly, not sure how to explain what he intended. It was a hopeless, stupid act, carried through on an impulse that he truly hadn't contemplated thoroughly. Liz had recently gotten a nice, new Volvo, supposedly just for going about town. But then, last week, John slipped the news to him that Liz was leaving to Michigan to live with an aunt. Hellboy liked John, really, but the guy was dense. Like denser than baby Swiss cheese.

"You didn't?" Liz echoed, her anger seeping through her tone. Hellboy flinched and quickly shook his head. She didn't believe him, at all. Groaning in frustrated annoyance, Liz gripped her hair and paced, fuming so much she could not speak.

Carefully he watched her, wondering what she would do to him for killing her rubber. Well, she couldn't burn him. That knocks off quite a few options. But then again Liz had a notoriously sharp tongue. Now, he knew he couldn't defeat her there. He wasn't too great at arguing. It took him a few moments to realize that she was talking again.

"…You can't do that, HB! Just because I want to leave does not mean you have a right to try to keep me here forever!" she ranted in angry desperation. She had been pacing but stopped, turning to face him fully, her hands out before him in what would have been a pleading gesture.

Hellboy looked at her dark eyes and thoughtful eyebrows, wanting nothing more than to hold her but he knew she wouldn't allow it. She hadn't allowed it since they had returned from Russia.

Putting a hand to her forehead, the woman sighed heavily, as if trying to blow away some inner voice.

"I can't stay here anymore, Red. I can't do it anymore and you can't keep me here," she finished, a tired, final sound in her low voice. Hellboy's eyes flashed in sudden anger and he stood abruptly, towering over her as she started.

"What's so wrong about being here, Liz? What? Is it me?" he demanded loudly, not caring if anyone could hear his thunderous voice. Liz stared up at him, her mouth opened slightly in surprise before tightening into a threatening line.

"I don't belong here, that's all! I want to go somewhere else for once and try living differently!"

"You can't do that here with all of us, your friends, near?! You have to leave to goddamn Michigan?!"

"Yes!"

"Why?!"

"Because I can't have what I want here!" she finally screamed back, the truth coming out as her eyes filled with angry tears. Hellboy quieted and stared at her as she breathed heavily. "I can't have a family or a normal life or even be sure I won't die with nothing within the next few days! Don't I deserve a family? And I can't do that if you're here, if I see you every day or think about you every moment. Don't I deserve a chance to finally have what I want?"

He wanted to argue. He wanted to tell her she was wrong. But somehow he couldn't think of the words. He lowered his eyes and slowly slumped to his bed, arms hanging between his knees, elbows on his thighs. So that was the utter truth of it all. The truth as to why she wouldn't let him hold her or kiss her again. Why she kept leaving more and more.

"You do. You do. And…"he looked at the crumpled paper, pathetically laying on the floor with only two words peeping out. 'Dear Liz'. "I'm sorry I can't give you a normal family."

He didn't dare look up to see her face but he heard her lower her angry hands and a regretful, thick sigh escape her small frame. When she kneeled in front of him, he closed his eyes and purposely turned his face far away from her. But when her soft, cold hands grasped his cheeks and gently forced his face to her, he couldn't keep them closed.

A sad but determined look dominated her thin features, her lips tilted in a melancholic smile and her eyes bright with tears. Kneeling down, she was shorter than he was and looked up into his marvelous yellow eyes, trying hard to explain how she felt without words.

"Its okay, Red."

"No, its not," he responded darkly, reaching up to take her tiny hands in his big red ones. Bringing them to his lips he kissed the palms and looked at her seriously. "I love you even if I can't show it. I don't want you to leave."

Liz flinched hard, as if he had slapped her across the face. Pulling her hands away she stood, her eyes dark and troubled, even though there was still a smile. Hellboy watched her as she turned and went to the door, desperately trying to think of something to say, anything to make her stay.

Finally, she turned and looked to him, small tears falling down her face.

"I knew you wouldn't let me go without fighting. But that was cruel, what you said. I'm leaving and I'm not coming back. Goodbye, Hellboy."


	2. Chapter 2

-1John pounded on the heavy, thick door for the fiftieth time that day, trying hard to get his friend to leave his room. It had been a month or so since Liz had left and Hellboy hadn't left his room since. He wouldn't even let John or anybody else come in to bring him food or laundry. The most John had managed to get him to do was to let all of his cats go so they wouldn't starve.

"Hellboy, c'mon! It's been over a month now! You're gonna die if you don't eat soon! Manning is about to have your door completely removed!" John threatened loudly before pounding again. It wasn't in his nature to be pushy or loud but this excessive self-abuse from his friend was enough cause to be. "I'll play Charlotte Church every hour of every day until you come out! I know you hate her!"

There was no response. There never was one. The most response John had gotten out of the month was a stubborn force holding shut the door when he tried to open it. Frustrated with his depressed comrade, he kicked the iron door hard, managing to bruise his poor, human foot.

"You are being so pathetic! You are acting as if life is completely over! Be a man! Get over it!" he hollered finally, getting ready just to turn and leave to attempt luring him out another day. But then he heard it. The tromping sound of a 6'9'' demon, weighing 350 pounds, charging to the door.

John managed to jump out of the way before the door flew open, banging into the defenseless wall behind it, causing quite a pretty dent. What came out of the room, however, was so much more pretty.

Hellboy's black hair was untied and unreasonably wild, hanging about his naked shoulders, which seemed a bit thinner than normal and a shade paler. His beard, no longer a goatee, had similarly gotten out of control, unkempt and in desperate need of a trim. The stubs of horns had grown partially, small but seeming quite satanic in their length. Golden eyes glared out at John above purple circles, threatening death in various interesting ways. Hellboy's uncovered chest seemed slightly deflated as if he had been poked and drained of vitality.

"Hey, Myers! Are you trash-talking me?! Are you saying I ain't a man?!" he barked angrily, his long tail twitching agitatedly. John wisely backed up a few feet, keeping his face as placid as possible. Hellboy held up his large hands, looked about as if demanding someone to answer him. "What? Do you want me to go out and act normal? You want me to prance about like a fucking weirdo, acting like everythin' is okay? Fine! I will! Watch me!"

And with that, he jumped about, waving his tired arms like some demented puppet. It was an amusing sight for John, watching this obviously deprived demon dancing in a circle, a cynical and frustrated expression on his haggard face. He would have laughed if he wasn't in fear for his as-of-yet undamaged body. Finally, Hellboy stopped, holding out his arms and glaring at the human.

"There. Happy, Boy Scout? I'm out and prancing about! And now I am going back to my room!" he growled, turning to leave. Jonh opened his mouth, finally, to protest but quickly stopped when the other man turned around again, pointing a long, threatening finger at him. "And don't you dare play that stupid music! I hate that annoying, screeching bi-"

"Ahem, Hellboy!" an older man's voice interrupted, sounding more than a little flustered. Both agents turned to look down the hall where there stood two more people. Manning eyed Hellboy distastefully, obviously not happy with how his self-imposed damage had taken a toll. His shiny black shoe tapped in an irritated fashion on the equally shiny floor, quickly getting on Hellboy's short nerves.

"So glad to see that you're out and about. I've come to introduce a new team member. Boys, this is Mary McArthur, a Psioncist," Manning introduced, a very cranky tone in his voice at the state of his top agent. Standing timidly next to the older man was a young woman, her hands clasped in front of her nervously. Hellboy stared at her fixedly for she was staring straight at him. If there was one thing he hated the most, it was staring.

Somewhat fidgety, Mary reached out a hand to shake John's, who looked quite puzzled before extending the same shaky hello to Hellboy. He stared down at the proffered appendage, eyeing how much larger and rougher they were compared to Liz's delicate, doll-like hands. After a moment she dropped her hand, looking to Manning for help before turning back to him.

She had shoulder-length spiced brown hair, curling about her chest and back slightly, the bangs pushed to the side along her forehead. Bright, curious hazel eyes scrutinized and analyzed every inch of him though her expression was honest and open. Her face was oval, the skin a nice light caramel tone with a light blush along the high cheekbones. Large but demure lips the color of dusty rose, quirked slightly at the sides in a laughing smile, hidden but visible.

Hellboy was frankly shocked that she gazed so directly at him, not in horror or fear but in polite curiosity. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or frustrated by that. But there was that expression of slight disapproval on her gently furrowed brow that annoyed him. Of course, he wasn't in the healthiest state of life and he hadn't bathed in a month but that didn't soothe his annoyance.

"A what?" he wisely demanded in a growl, hiding an even ruder question. The woman looked up at Manning who shrugged and nodded toward Hellboy and John who seemed equally perplexed.

With a sigh, Mary stared straight into Hellboy's golden eyes, her hazel ones taking on a brighter hue and seeming to flare slightly with some inner fire. He began to feel this strange, crawling sensation up inside his skin, as if there were tiny fingers digging into his flesh and shimming up and down. It vaguely horrified him but he held still, not sure of what she was doing.

Suddenly, his left hand came up and slapped him, hard. Shocked, he stared down at his now limp and treacherous arm before feeling the side of his face with his stone hand.

"What the hell did you do?" Hellboy demanded lowly, amazed and angered that she could do that. Mary merely smiled sweetly before he felt a flush of freezing cold rush through him as if he had been dumped in a pool of ice.

"She can manipulate people's minds, making them do what she commands through changing the chemical flows in their brains. If she focuses enough, she can convince the body to choke the air or blood to vital organs. Hell, she could make the body implode if she convinced it enough. She can plant ideas and thoughts in their mind. But one special trick is her ability to touch, see and feel without her body," Manning droned, presenting and explaining her as he would a horse. Hellboy got the gist of it and was more than glad when her mental grip slid from his brain. He didn't like someone controlling his arm and forcing it to hit him.

"How?" John asked curiously before he could stop himself. Mary smiled at him again.

"By using my mental forces to direct and suggest. Other than that, I'm not too sure," she replied, finally speaking. Her voice was a bit higher than Liz's had been but was more melodic and expressed more feeling. "Watch."

John suddenly tightened up, his hands gripped into fists at his sides as an invisible finger trailed up his neck and down his back, through his clothing. It felt like flesh, warm with even the tip of a fingernail. But there was a solid wall behind him and she stood in plain view, hands again clasped easily.

Hellboy was about to demand what the hell she was doing before he felt it himself. He felt a warm hand rest on his thick throat, the fingers drumming on his pulse before sliding away. She stood right in front of him, her grin a bit diminished but her eyes still a bright green.

"Oh."

"Its not an exact science yet but I'm hoping to make progress by working in the Bureau. I've already met Abe and I have to admit that its interesting to meet another pseudo-psychic," Mary said lightly. She laughed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Its really rather odd to have someone else in my mind."

Hellboy grimaced at her cheerful attitude. He was only used to one semi-cheery person and that was John, who was so quiet about it that it generally shouldn't be called 'cheer'. Curious, he glanced out of the corner of his eyes to spot John smiling slightly at the new member.

Personally, he didn't want her there. He wouldn't have minded if she was male or someone he wouldn't have to bother with but from the stern look Manning was giving him, he would have to.

"Why don't you get cleaned up and take Miss McArthur for a tour through the rest of the complex? I have other matters to attend to," Manning said, puffing up slightly. Hellboy had come to like the older man somewhat but he couldn't resist the temptation to puncture his ego bubble.

"Like what? An interview with Oprah?"

A muffled laugh escaped Mary and all three men looked at her as she covered her mouth and looked away. Manning's face turned a fascinating color of purple before he turned and stomped off, finding himself above arguments with the demon.

"Well, this has been interesting," Mary muttered, looking down at her feet before stifling another laugh. Hellboy glared at her, hoping she would take the hint. The pleated brown skirt and button up white business shirt bothered him in its normality, along with the pink high heels and nude stockings.

"What's so interesting about it?" he growled suspiciously. He could feel John's eyes upon him, inquiring as to why he was being rude. But Mary merely looked up at him, from her 5'6'' height, her large hazel eyes flickering over his face.

"Why do you hate me so much already?" she queried in return, her voice soft and somewhat sad. Hellboy tensed slightly, a snarl forming in his throat. It was bad enough that Abe could get into his head so easily but for this small woman to be able to infuriated him terribly.

With a rumbling roar of anger, the demon turned and disappeared into his room, slamming the door behind him, the sound banging like a gun resound. John flinched and sighed, knowing he was never going to get him out now.

Suddenly, he was quite aware that Mary had turned from eyeing the door to studying him. He watched as her smile disappeared and a frown cloud her brow.

"I don't understand."

"You don't? I thought you could read minds."

"No, I can't. I can only control the body and plant ideas. Thoughts are beyond me," she sighed and looked at the door again, sincerely frustrated. John stepped a bit closer, feeling a bit sorry for the rude welcome.

"Then how do you know he hates you?"

Mary snorted softly before turning a reprimanding look upon him.

"You don't have to be psychic to see that he wanted nothing more than to punch my face in. It happens a lot with people around me. But I really want to know why," she explained firmly, before turning away to head back the way she came. John hesitated before running to catch up, not sure of what to say.

"Maybe he'll be kinder in time. It usually takes a while for Red to warm up to anyone," he suggested half-heartedly. Mary cast a half smile at him before looking down at her pink shoes as she walked.

"Perhaps."

For a few moments they walked before Mary stopped and turned to him again. She seemed to have covered her sudden melancholy easily and was again clear browed and eyed.

"Where is my room?" she asked politely. John thought for a moment before shrugging pathetically.

"No idea."


	3. Chapter 3

-1"What is that annoying crap?" Hellboy grumbled, his head hurting slightly as he entered the room. He had only finally left his room after a thorough cleaning and was now in dire need of a meal. The kitchen was the first room on his agenda and as soon as he entered he wished he hadn't.

A deep, wholesome sort of voice echoed in the steel and tile room from a small boom box set on one counter. It sounded a bit too romantic-like for his taste and it bugged him quickly. What he saw in the kitchen bothered him even more.

"I think I'm being mentally raped," he groaned in disbelief.

John stood with a large bowl in his arms, whipping with a fork some gooey, clear froth, an apron about his waist, covering his business pants and belt. He had lost his jacket and stood with the white sleeves rolled up, the top few buttons undone and his hair more than a little messy. Most of his exposed clothing and skin was covered in white powder.

Mary was no better off. At first, Hellboy didn't recognize her at all. When he had first seen her, about two weeks previous, she seemed like a generic female being. But the person standing there was nothing close to generic.

Her red-brown hair was held up in a bun with white-gold chopsticks, falling in messy twirling tendrils down around her ears and down her neck. Flour and sugar dusted her rounded cheeks, flushed from the warmth of the room and her fingers were white with the stuff. She wore a tight black t-shirt, proudly parading the logo for Jackass the movie with the skull and crutches. Tied about her waist was a cream and black plaid flannel shirt and her legs were donned with tight blue jeans, decorated with cursive words in black ink. Handcuffs dangled from her earrings, swinging as she swayed her hips.

Hellboy watched silently as she rolled a large lump of dough in her hands, stretching it and mashing it together again, working through any tough areas. As she danced about to the music, not yet noticing him, he found himself distracted by her form. It was short but full with plumper curves than Liz possessed. She had a moderately small waist, not cinched but flat and long. Her hips were broader and more welcoming as were her shoulders but they sloped gently in a come-hither fashion.

"Wow, you came out. On your own, amazingly," John's voice suddenly cut through his examination, startling him. It disturbed him that he had been so entranced in watching the woman dance about to the fluent music.

"Yeah. Was gonna hafta sooner or later. Can't eat candy wrappers forever," he grumbled lowly in reply before coming into the kitchen more fully. Mary turned to look at him, a softer smile on her lips than the one she had boldly flashed a few weeks earlier. He nodded at her slightly before glaring at the boom box.

"What the hell is that?"

"That? That is Frank Sinatra."

Hellboy merely rose an impressive eyebrow at her before shrugging.

"You don't know Sinatra? 'Old blue eyes'?" she asked in awed disappointment, her shoulders slumping a bit. Hellboy gave her a stare that clearly asked if she had a problem with him not knowing. Deciding to ignore him, Mary tossed the dough on the floured counter before rolling it with her hands.

"What're you two making?" the demon asked as politely as he possibly could. She still annoyed him greatly but he figured that if he was going to have to deal with her he might as well try. He rounded the side of the counter, planting his hands on the top, his stone one scraping on the surface. Behind him his tail swished easily, twitching from time to time from the music.

Mary glanced at his hand briefly, her eyes analyzing it for a moment before turning back to her work.

"We were making a pizza. It's a dessert pizza made with cookie dough and candy toppings with icing," she replied as she tossed the dough in the air, catching it with closed fists and spinning it about. "When I was seventeen, I worked at a Dominos and learned to slap dough."

Hellboy had to crack a smile at that.

"Dominos pizza is disgusting."

Mary laughed whole heartedly before gently laying out the uncooked cookie on a big round baking sheet.

"Absolutely. And I know especially since I know what ingredients they use."

"Ew."

"Ew is right."

He looked about, realizing how quiet John was, only to discover that the man had somehow managed to slip out, unnoticed.

"Are you hungry? Do you want me to make something?" Mary offered as she set the sheet in the oven and setting the timer. Hellboy had just settled into one of the barstools that sat along with counter before glaring at the woman.

"I'm capable of making myself food, Short-Stuff."

"Oh, I know," she responded lightly, wiping her hands on a cloth. "But I'm in a cooking mood and I feel like doing it. Have you ever had a grilled cheese sandwich?"

He looked at her like she was perfectly stupid, which he was starting to believe she was.

"Yeah, who hasn't?"

She grinned a bit diabolically before going to the large steel refrigerator and pulling out several ingredients.

"Okay, how about a four-cheese sandwich with blueberries?"

Now that made him pause and stare at her. She was insane, he decided sourly. The only response he could offer was a blunt shake of his head. Mary smiled again and set about to make it.

"I know it sounds funky but its actually really good. I had a friend back in Nevada where I lived who wanted to be a chef," she explained as she cut several blocks of cheese and laid them out. "He used to make some of the oddest dishes but they were awesome."

Hellboy continued to stare mutely at her as she rinsed a handful of ripe blueberries, looking up at him to make sure he had paid attention. After a moment she shrugged it off again, turning on the stove and going to dig in cabinets. He watched her amusedly as she crawled about on her knees, clattering pots and pans for something.

"Need help?" he finally asked, holding back laughter slightly. Mary shook her head, still on her knees on the floor.

"I need a skillet. A flat skillet like for pancakes."

"On the left, bottom level."

Mary sat up on her legs, hands planted on her thighs, gazing at him in vague confusion. Turning back to the counter she leaned so she could reach into the cabinet without moving in her seat. He eyed her hips and stomach as she stretched, the muscles moving as she fumbled about.

Finally she withdrew, holding a flat metal skillet by the handle. She gave him an amused, thankful glance before getting up.

"Wouldn't think you to be the type to memorize a kitchen," she commented as she set it on stove. Hellboy rolled his golden eyes before snatching a cut of cheese and munching on it.

"Yeah, well, wouldn't think you to be the type to make people beat themselves with their own arms, Short-Stuff," he returned a bit snidely. Mary flipped one of the sandwiches with a spatula to send him a sore glance.

"Is that my new nick name?"

"For now, Shorty."

"You still real mad about that whole thing?"

"Shouldn't I be?"

"I could've been mean and made you hit with your right arm, you know."

"You could've hit Myers instead."

"Nah, he would've cried," she giggled meanly as she set the steaming sandwiches on a plate and cut them. Hellboy grinned before he could catch himself and nodded in agreement.

"You don't like Myers?" he asked curiously as she walked over and sat down across from him. She shrugged as she settled down in her spot, leaning on her elbows, hands fiddling together.

"He's alright. Little quiet and a bit wimpy seeming but nice," she waited for a moment, looking at him intently. He frowned at her sudden staring.

"What?"

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Well, are you going to try it?"

Hellboy eyed the sandwiches sitting in front of him innocently, golden brown and dripping with cheese. Parts of it were stained blue from the blueberries and it worried him. Almost timidly, he picked up one and lifted it to his face. Carefully he sniffed it before nibbling on it, staring in a challenging way at her hazel eyes. After a moment he looked at the sandwich in surprise before taking another bite.

It was nothing he really expected it to be. He lifted what was left in surprised salutation to her before finishing it off.

"Its good."

Mary smiled at the slight compliment.

"Of course it is."

"You might want to make about…oh…another fifteen of them."

She stared at him dumbfounded before bouncing out of her seat towards the refrigerator.

"I'm gonna need more blueberries! Unless you don't mind peaches."

"Nope. I never figured fruit would taste good with cheese."

"What about Danishes?"

"Oh, yeah."

They sat in silence for a moment or two, Hellboy distracting himself with his food while Mary made a tower of sandwiches.

"So…Nevada, huh?"

"Yep."

"What's that like?"

Mary shrugged as she came back over, placing the tall mass of sandwiches in front of him and settling in her seat.

"Desolate, covered in bushes and pathetic."

"Sounds like Manning's love life," Hellboy commented evilly, knowing it would at least make her laugh. And she did, fully, and it startled him how well she could laugh. Before he figured laughing was just something you did, easily and with no real art to it. But watching the way her cheeks turned pink and her lips turned into a smile as her honey-gold voice rang in mirth, he realized that it was almost like singing.

"Now, don't you tell him that. Somehow it'll come back to me and I'd rather that didn't happen," she asked as she calmed down, smoothing her brown hair from her face. Hellboy snorted but shrugged in compliance.

"Don't know what in the hell he'd do about it, Squirt."

"That's not the point. I'm new here. I want to make a good impression," she explained, picking off a bit of the burnt cheese from around the edges of the food, nails easily clipping them off.

"Lotta good that'll do ya."

She rolled her eyes but let it go, turning about to stare at the windowless room, at its shining floors and metal cabinets. He jumped slightly when she turned back to him, catching him staring. She smiled lightly, her brow creased a little in weariness.

"So…do you still hate me?" she asked quietly but solemnly, her hazel eyes boring into his. Hellboy, caught off guard, ran a hand over his filed horns and ebony ponytail, feeling a bit put on the spot. Finally he let out a low 'bah' and smiled ruefully.

"I didn't really hate you. I just didn't really like you either," he replied, not wanting to really explain the whole story. But she seemed fairly happy with the answer anyway.

"Well, I'm glad you don't hate me. It would be a bad way to start off a partnership."


	4. Chapter 4

-1It was eleven o'clock at night and for the first time in over two months since Liz left, Hellboy felt lonely. Miserably, damnably lonely and it was driving him up the wall. After watching Gerald McBoing Boing about a million times over, which reminded him painfully of the late nights he would watch it with Liz, he growled and turned off the annoying screens.

Since Father had died, Hellboy felt no regret about breaking out often and letting Manning have an unreasonable amount of heart attacks. Walking down the tiled hallway towards the kitchen, where a back door opened up behind the Bureau, Hellboy paused at Mary's door, hearing voices from the other side. Unlike his door, hers was a plain white wood one with a small eyehole for privacy.

As politely as possible, and that was a true feat for him, Hellboy knocked gently on the door, wondering if maybe she wanted to go outside as well. As far as he knew, she hardly went out, possibly less than he did.

After a few moments, she opened the door widely, looking up at him curiously. She wore a white cotton robe with her hair dark, wet and tangled about her shoulders and face, framing it so it looked quite small and pale. Under her eyes were faint lines where her eyeliner had run in the shower and her cheeks were faintly flushed in the harsh light of the hallway.

Behind her was dark except for a flickering television and a small lamp which had a cobalt scarf thrown over it, giving that area an eerie glow.

"Is something the matter?" she asked finally, tightening the sash about her waist more modestly, flicking the light on next to her. Hellboy roughly shook his head, both at her question and at the fogging fact that she was wearing nothing but a small robe. Maybe these things bugged him cause he missed Liz so much.

"Nah, I was just bored," he replied gruffly, purposely looking over her head into the room which he found rather odd. Mary nodded and stepped back so he could come in.

"Um, well, I was just watching a movie. Wanna come in?" she offered, turning to go back into her room. Hellboy nodded and came in enough so he could close the door behind him, his tail flickering about his legs so it was not shut on. For a moment he paused and looked about, not sure about his surroundings.

Across from him was a wide window that looked out across the city which sparkled in the distance. Soft, gauzy curtains, tinted the color of blue, were tied with silk at each side, letting in the lights. Underneath the window, which was adorned with a multitude of picture frames and various objects, was a low-lying futon with thick white comforters and long pillows. Next to the bed stood a table with the television which played an old black and white film, the volume turned up so the people could be heard.

On the right hand side of the room was a full length mirror, topped with a multitude of hats and scarves, making it look like some ridiculous butler. Next to it was an oak desk with a small swivel chair. The surface carried the lamp and an array of pens, charcoals, erasers and crumples paper towels, along with a range of sketches and random pictures.

The walls themselves were covered in posters, paintings and clippings from newspapers, making it look like one huge collage. Most were Native American paintings from a woman named Susan Seddon Boulet and oil paintings. There were articles about random archeological findings and of the Siddhartha Buddha touring in the world. Old necklaces and rocks hung from the ceiling along with two dream catchers, a harlequin clown, and wire/clay figurines.

"It's an old one. It's called 'The Devil Bat' with Bela Lugosi. Sort of cheesy but I like it," Mary said as she sat down on her bed, facing the television. She picked up a brush and started running it through her hair as it dried, watching the movie.

Hellboy felt awkward standing there, no longer sure what he had intended by coming here. Looking about, he felt mildly claustrophobic. Liz's room had always been a bit bare except for the Polaroid pictures and laundry. Of which, he saw none in Mary's room. In fact, despite the clutter, her room was meticulously clean.

"You can sit down, you know. I'm not going to bite," she suddenly said, interrupting his thoughts. He focused on the woman, sitting on her white bed in her white robe and found her looking at him studiously. She analyzed his rather protruding brow and cheekbones, the intense golden eyes and ever-frowning lines of his lips. She smiled and patted the spot next to her before turning back to her task of drying her hair.

He obediently walked over but plopped down on the ground instead, crossing his red arms guardedly about his broad chest. His head was at the same height of her shoulders when he sat on the floor and she sat on the bed. Determinedly, he watched the black and white movie, purposely ignoring her but thankful for her silent company. Mary didn't say a word but merely sat with him for about a half an hour.

Before he knew it, Hellboy had relaxed enough that he was leaning against her firm futon, his elbows up on the bed, legs spread out in front of him. His legs were long enough that they passed the television stand and reached towards the door. His tail twitched easily next to him like a half-awake snake. Mary laid curled up in a ball on the bed, her arms about a pillow and her head resting on it. It made quite a sight at how small she was, taking a fourth of the bed with his arms taking up the rest of it.

Finally, the movie ended and she turned off the T.V. Uncurling from her spot like a cat, Mary stretched beside him, swinging her legs off the bed and rubbing her eyes. Finally she looked down at him and smiled sleepily. Hellboy was hardly tired and found himself even more ready for a good walk.

"So, you wanna go out for a walk?" he asked bluntly, not feeling like being tactful at the moment. Mary glanced at her electric clock next to her bed and shrugged. 12:45? Not too late.

"Sure. Let me get dressed though. I don't think it'd be good to wander about in a bathrobe."


	5. Chapter 5

-1"You know, I've never been out here at night. It's pretty," Mary remarked as they wandered about the abandoned streets. They were out in the suburb area outside of the city and no one else was about. Little houses lined the streets and the street lamps above were turned low, making everything orange and muggy.

"Yeah, but it gets boring real fast," Hellboy replied, his left hand burrowed in the thick pockets of his trench coat. He felt inanely big next to her. Generally this was nothing new to him; everyone was small next to him. Perhaps it was because she was huddled into herself against the biting chill, her red ears coming out from under her gray cap. "I like Scotland or England."

Strolling easily through the empty streets, they wandered for the better part of an hour. Hellboy lit a thick cigar, inhaling the sweet, rich smoke, taking it deep into his lungs and sighing it in a breath of grateful air. Mary started sneezing soon after (from the cold or from his cigar, he didn't know) but he decided it would be a good idea to head back. Liz always was warm, somehow, and she never really had too much of a problem with the cold, never getting sick or sniffled. He had to remind himself constantly that Mary wasn't Liz. She would get sick easily. She didn't have bursts of flame to engulf enemies or to protect her.

They had not, as of yet, gone on a mission and Hellboy honestly had no idea of what to expect from the small woman when they did. Manning had explained vaguely of what would happen and he had small demonstrations but not enough to convince him. He wasn't even sure if she could shoot a gun. In fact he had seen no violence or temper from her at all.

But, looking down at her little red nose and wide hazel eyes, Hellboy realized that Mary was probably the most human person he had ever met. Liz had always seemed rather detached and analytical, like some cold goddess from the stars. Abe, well, he wasn't even human to begin with. Father was intelligent and determined and that was all well but it didn't demonstrate hard humanity. He had always seemed strong and unbreakable. Perhaps that was what it was. She seemed so breakable.

"I never really imagined I would ever be here," Mary suddenly whispered, her voice soft in the night air. Hellboy glanced at her before looking back to his large, booted feet. He kicked a rock but remained silent as it clattered down the road. "When I was younger, I always read about monsters and angels and dreamed that one day I would see one and live an adventure. I would spend hours in the library, reading stories or researching even the smallest fact in history. When I was a Senior, I spent months researching Hitler and the occult secrets he used."

At that Hellboy couldn't suppress a cackle. She looked up at him questioningly, her hands rubbing together.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No. I was just remembering my greatest accomplishment," he snickered wickedly. She rose an eyebrow and smirked.

"What would that be?"

"I beat a cybernetic Hitler with his own leg once. It was great."

Mary stared at him to make sure he was serious before her face melted in an appalled expression.

"Are you freaking serious?"

"Yep, and god did he run! Funniest damn thing I've ever seen. He was all dragging himself away, stump of'a'leg all sparkin' and crap!" he laughed whole-heartedly at the memory and at her shocked face. Mary had at first looked so disgusted but at the visual image she laughed as well, her face flushing in the cold.

Once their laughter died down, they continued on in a quiet, comfortable walk, Mary kicking things, rocks and cans, as they went. She stuck her hands in her coat pockets and looked up at the distant stars.

"If you could go anywhere, where would you go?" she asked randomly. Hellboy looked at her to see if she was serious before shrugging.

"Where would you go?"

"Italy."

"Why?"

"I've always looked at picture books of Italy and thought, 'Wow, how pretty. The bright blue seas and the white buildings in the greenest mountains'. I want to go sailing in Naples and walk the streets, listen to the music. Italy is the cradle of art and sensation, at least to me. To me it's the very embodiment of the concept 'romance'," she rambled, her voice reverent and excited at the same time. She looked up at him, to find Hellboy staring at her intently. His crimson brow was furrowed in thought and his golden eyes were slightly sad.

Mary stopped, confused at his expression, before putting a cold hand on his forearm.

"Are you alright?"

He nodded distractedly before shrugging off her hand and continuing on, his thunderous look deepening. For a few moments she walked in silence next to him, her feet scuffling a bit.

"So, where would you go?" she finally asked timidly, his silence bothering her a bit. The demon stopped abruptly, looking around them, yellow eyes narrowed, before pointing to a window of a house. His red tail swished agitatedly behind him, distracting her vaguely before she looked.

"There. In a normal house with normal people, eating dinner and going to the movies," he explained simply, not flowering it with unnecessary words. Mary looked up at him in thought before shrugging.

"That's funny."

"What's so funny about it?" he demanded angrily, feeling a bit debased at her words.

"When I had that, all I dreamed of was what I have now. To live that life is boring, day to day and greedy."

"It's not like the life we lead now is so great, Shorty."

"It has more meaning."

"Meaning for who?"

"For the world. Its like comparing a stockbroker to a peace corps worker. The broker cares only for profit and succeeding but the worker cares for the world and accomplishes in making lives better for everyone else."

Hellboy chewed on that for a while before deciding it was alright. A bit too selfless if he was honest with himself but alright.

"Yeah, but that worker will never enjoy what he makes good for others cause he's too busy being a hero."

"There's plenty of enjoyment in helping others. You get this feeling of happiness for being the reason."

The demon didn't reply but continued on walking, his dark look a bit diminished. Mary stayed silent as she walked next to him, sniffling off and on. They were more than two miles away from the Bureau and Hellboy was almost positive the woman was going to get pneumonia.

"You're getting sick, Short-Stuff. This ain't Nevada," he stated before shrugging out of his heavy coat, revealing his black t-shirt, stretched across his broad chest. Mary sniffled before shaking her head even as he offered it to her.

"No, I'm okay. Put it back on; _you're _gonna get sick," she refused in a motherly way. Hellboy rolled his eyes before draping it over her shoulders, tucking it about her neck.

"I never get sick. But, you, you human, are going to. Now wear it," he ordered as he buttoned the large brass buttons before she swatted away his hands, bruising one of hers on his stone knuckle.

"Fine. Fine. I'll wear it."

He had to restrain from laughing at her as she walked, tripping over the insanely long folds of his coat. Bunching up the ends in her small hands, she looked tiny in the mass of it, like a little girl in her father's clothes. When he wasn't looking, Mary burrowed her face in his coat, her fingers gliding over the soft leather. She inhaled the smell of good cigars, rich cologne like sandalwood and the musky male scent in his sweat.

"Its too hot," she whined after a few minutes, despite the deliciously heady smell. He looked down at her to see her pouting slightly. He rolled his eyes before placing his large palm on her forehead, engulfing a good third of her face. He hardly even had to reach up, considering how short she was to him. The skin of her flesh was slightly damp in sweat but it was chilly and cold.

"No, you got sick. Damn," he muttered before looking out towards the Bureau. It was still a good mile and a half away. She was going to get worse unless they got there fast. But she could barely walk as it was in that oversized coat.

"I'm gonna carry you the rest of the way."

"No, you don't have to-"

"I know but you're just gonna get worse unless we get there fast," he explained roughly before scooping her up. She squeaked in surprise at his strength, her hands curled up in front of her. Mary was heavier than Liz but only because of her larger curves and stature.

Hellboy tried to ignore her warm form in his arms as he walked briskly, almost a run, down the street. She seemed fragile in his grasp and he could feel her tremble slightly. Eventually he felt her relax and huddle against his chest, her head resting on the juncture of his thick right arm and shoulder.

Within fifteen minutes they reached the back door to the estate and he set her down, almost regretfully. She gave him back his coat before going inside into the warmth. Hellboy stood there on the back stairs, putting back on his trench which was almost smoldering from her sick heat. Along with it came the residue scent of cinnamon, vanilla flowers and that sweet woman smell that they all possessed, which she had left on the cloth. For a moment it intoxicated him before he snapped out of it.

Mary's room was shut up so he figured she immediately went to bed. And with a slightly sad sigh he headed for his own bed.


	6. Chapter 6

-1"You look like shit, Shorty. I think you should avoid the heavy stuff; you know, tequila and vodka?" Hellboy commented with a smirk as he felt Mary's flushed cheek and forehead. His red hand was big enough that his thumb could touch the bottom of her jaw and his forefinger reached her temple on the opposite side of her head without stretching. She wore an oversized button up suit shirt and boxers.

She stuck out her tongue at him before sneezing.

"It wasn't liquor and I still blame you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"It's your fault and you know it."

The cool, cloudy day outside sent in its damp grey light into her room through her gauzy curtains. It was around noon when Hellboy awoke from odd dreams and came in to check on her. It was a cold, a fairly bad one at that.

Mary shuddered and buried her face under her covers, sniffling miserably. Grumpy whining came from under it but he couldn't tell what she said. Gently but forcefully he grasped her blanket and pulled it from her head, ruffling her abused hair.

"What?"

She glared at him with puffy eyes.

"I said I hope you get dunked balls first in a lake of lava!"

He snorted a laugh and ruffled her already frizzy hair more, making it fall in her face and frustrating her.

"Wouldn't hurt, you know."

"Fine then. A lake of ice and vegetables while Charlotte Church plays on the shore," she returned, smiling in triumph. The idea made his eyes twitch. He glowered at her playfully.

"Now that's just mean, Squirt."

"So are colds, you damn big red monkey."

A knock on the door interrupted Hellboy from shooting back another rude remark. John entered, carrying a tray with a bowl of steaming soup, a glass of orange juice and a mug of frothing coffee. That made her happy. Sitting up in bed, Mary propped herself against the wall and reached for the tray.

"Yay! Food! Foo-ooo-ood!"

John set it down on her lap along with a couple of pills for her temperature. Out of a pocket he pulled out a travel case of Kleenex's.

"I thought you might need this."

"Probably, actually positively," and without another word she took her pills and quickly attacked the hot soup. Hellboy looked up at the agent from his seat at the end of her futon.

"So, do we have anything interesting going on? Anything that needs the shit beaten outta it?" he asked hopefully. It was getting terribly boring since the incident in Russia. He figured things would cool down, with whatever slime balls out there taking cover. But this was getting ridiculous.

John shook his head thankfully. He wasn't much for dealing with denizens from other plans or with chasing down things that could eat him in one and a third bites.

"Not a thing. Except one incident down in Peru but that turned out to be a deranged old woman sneaking into peoples houses and stealing their coffee beans. Claimed they were the ashes of her long dead lover," he said offhandedly. He grinned slightly at Hellboy's glower of disappointment. "You should be glad, especially since Mary's sick."

"Pfft."

John rolled his eyes and gave Mary another set of pills for later.

"Well, I'm glad even if you aren't. It gives me more time to go out," he commented. But as soon as the words escaped he wished he could chomp off his tongue. Both Mary and Hellboy looked at him somewhat mischievously.

"Out? Does Boy Scout have a girlfriend?" Hellboy asked in a fake innocent voice. John's eyes narrowed and he shrugged in a nonchalant manner.

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Oh, c'mon, John, don't hold out on us. Who is she?" Mary asked.

"Nobody."

"Myers-"

"Nobody, you damn big red monkey!"

And with that he left, a bit miffed but too mild mannered to do much. He even closed the door quietly, politely. Hellboy shook his head in half relief and half disbelief. Mary snorted in contained laughter which quickly loosed once John was gone.

"Did you ever notice how often you are called that?"

"Called what?"

"'You damn big red monkey!' That."

"Yeah, well, I am damned. I am big. I am red. But the whole monkey thing is where it goes wrong."

"John tries to be insulting; I suppose it's the most he can do."

"Well, I'm glad for the guy. I was starting to worry about him," he chuckled as he stole her glass of juice. Mary snorted again into her coffee before shaking a finger at him.

"You are so mean to the poor guy," she scolded before giggling. "Yeah, I was too."

Hellboy looked into her coffee mug before wrinkling his nose.

"Is that cream and sugar?"

"Yep."

"Wimp. Can't drink it black?"

"No."

"Pfft!"

"Well sorry if I enjoy sweet things and the un-poisoned health of my taste buds."

She beckoned for her orange juice and he gave it back after swallowing half of it. He almost expected her to wipe the rim of her glass to get rid of whatever spit he left but she did nothing of the sort. She brought it right to her mouth and took a drink. What he found curious was that when she drank she touched her tongue over the rim, exposing it for only a moment.

"Mm, my dad used to tell me when I was little that when I drank orange juice that I was drinking a little bit of sunshine. Since then, I always imagined that the sun would taste like that," she said in a slightly sad voice as she handed the rest to him. He drank it as she indicated a picture on her windowsill of an older man. He ran his tongue over the area where hers had been, tasting her spit there along with the juice.

"That's my dad. He was an artist, a faux finisher. He did murals and marbling in Las Vegas, Reno, Palm Springs and New York. I think his best was in the Wild Horse Saloon."

"What's that?"

"A cat house."

"A cat house?"

"Yep. I got to go in there and see it. It was a mural of an exotic garden with flowers and beautiful women. He loved the female body. He sort of started me on drawing people," she explained, nodding towards her desk. Hellboy examined the picture of her father from afar. He had a lined, weathered face but he looked only to be about in his late forties with thinning, long brown hair and dark brown eyes. He had many smile lines and many frown ones, creasing his expressions.

"What happened to him?" he asked, assuming that her father was dead. And it seemed his estimation was correct. Mary's hazel eyes tightened slightly and she looked out the window, as if silently debating whether she should reply at all.

"The night I discovered what I could do, I got in an argument with my dad. He wanted me to listen to my grandmother and marry. I thought he believed I couldn't take care of myself.

You see, all of my friends were either married with children or with a boyfriend. It bothered me at first that I was the only one alone at parties but I had finally gotten over that. My dad raised me to be independent and to hear him say that it…but when we were yelling at each other, I just wanted him to shut up. I thought I was something awful for being alone. I wanted him to die so I didn't have to listen to him any more," she stopped, her mouth stuttering in an attempt to continue. It strained her badly to admit any of this. Finally she looked up at Hellboy, her eyes shining oddly.

"I loved my father. I did. It was just one of those moments that quickly pass but…but that moment killed him. My thoughts made him die. The autopsy said his heart imploded and his brain liquefied in the skull. I didn't know until later. I ran. I ran and ran until I found myself lost in the middle of downtown Reno. I kept seeing that pink spray coming from him, spilling from his nose and ears."

She paused, biting her lower lip at the memory, her gaze lowered to her fiddling hands. Hellboy felt an inane urge to hold her as her shoulders shook at what she said. She had killed her father; murdered him on accident in a moment of anger. At first it appalled him that such a sweet seeming woman could commit such a thing. He had seen bodies strewn with limbs chewed off or burnt, he had seen carnage many would never but the thought of her killing in such a way couldn't take hold in his brain. It seemed impossible even though Liz had killed. He had grown accustomed to the thought of cool hearted Liz killing but he choked on bile at the thought of Mary.

"I was living with a friend, hiding from my family. The police told them it was a prowler but I just couldn't face them. That's when I got a letter from the Bureau, offering me a home. Away from Reno. Away from what I had done and an opportunity to repent for it."

He wasn't sure if there was anything that he could say to her. She sat there, sniffling and wiping her nose and eyes roughly, ashamed of her tears. She smiled up at him weakly, her lips wet from salty droplets.

"I'm sorry. I haven't told anyone about my dad since the accident. Not even the friend I was living with knew. I don't know why I am telling you, to be honest," she admitted softly. "Maybe it's because you've lost your dad too."

Even more tears slid down her rounded cheeks to drip off her chin and lips. Small hiccups escaped her quietly as she strained to hold in her sobs. Timidly, afraid to comfort her, Hellboy reached out with his left hand, the red fingers twitching slightly. Gently he patted her shoulder, not sure how to help.

Hellboy was a blue-collar hard working demon slayer, accustomed to rough fights and beer drinking competitions. He had seen a woman cry only once in his life and she left him without allowing his help. So when Mary grabbed onto his hand and pressed it to her cheek like it was the only solid thing in existence, he had no idea what to do.

Trembling terribly, she stroked his large red hand with her smaller ones, keeping it against her face. His skin was quickly getting wet from her tears but he gently wiped one away with his thumb. Her face felt terribly small and breakable in his hand and he felt as if he had to be very careful.

Mary crawled out of the blankets, not releasing his hand until she achieved her goal. Before he could react, she wrapped her arms about his broad shoulders and pressed her face into his neck, hiccupping a bit louder. Unsure and not entirely comfortable with this sudden moment, he gently put his arms about her lower back and shoulders blades, gathering her into his lap.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Mary muttered over and over again but she didn't relinquish her embrace at all. Hellboy wasn't sure as to what to say but he held her anyway, brushing strands of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ears. Comforting was not one of his strong points but she did seem to calm considerably after a few minutes.

He felt her sink in his grasp, resting her cheek against his strong chest, one hand on his collarbone, the other playing with her necklace as her hitching breath calmed. Hellboy's human arm was around her shoulders and his giant stone one was resting on her leg, not moving for fear of hurting her or pinching her in its joints.

Looking down, he suddenly wished he could feel in that hand, considering how it laid heavily upon her skin, the flesh of her thigh above her knee. One of her hands, the one that had been on his chest, slid down to that stone hand. She touched the rough surface of it, the nails dancing about the curving lines in it. After a few quiet moments, the hand stopped and he looked down to find that she had fallen asleep in his hold.

For a few moments he just looked down at her sleeping face, tear stained and tired. It was odd but he found himself caring greatly for the small woman who seemed so easily broken and human. He hated her only a few months earlier just for being a woman who had come to replace Liz on the team. But that wasn't her fault and he felt a bit sorry for how mean he had been at first. Somehow, however, he had an idea that she knew and had forgiven him.

Gently he stood up, cradling her against him as he kicked open her covers all the way. Setting her down on the firm mattress he carefully slid his arm out from under her and tucked her blankets in about her form, trying hard not to touch too fully. He was about to leave when he felt a sudden grasp on his right hand.

Mary laid there, holding onto his hand so he couldn't leave, her eyes half open.

"Stay?" she mouthed silently. Hellboy contemplated saying no and just leaving but the look she gave him pleaded for him to comply. After a moment he sat down on the futon, next to her. The metal framing whined and sank under his weight but it held well. Kicking off his huge, heavy boots he swung his long legs up, resting on his back, unsure of what he was doing.

For a moment, Hellboy panicked that she was going to see his cloven feet. He looked down at them, at the rough, black hooves and the furry, goatish ankles. Mary hadn't seen his feet before and suddenly he felt very odd with them suddenly exposed.

However, with a murmur of thanks, Mary scooted closer and curled against his chest, her cheek resting on his shoulder junction. She seemed to completely ignore or not see his feet altogether. His right arm wrapped about her lower back, resting partially on her side and on his stomach. One of her smaller hands rested on the top of his chest, curled into a little fist upon the black t-shirt.

Hellboy decided to be daring so he reached up with his left hand and covered her fist with it. She responded with a content little murmur, nuzzling her nose into his shoulder. He found it hard to sleep as easily as she did with her soft, plump body pressed against his side, breathing deeply in slumber. Liz had often slept on him and it had distracted him just about as much. But with Liz, the idea of being with her always seemed like a dream, like being with some untouchable goddess.

But Mary, Mary felt real, felt reachable and perhaps that was why he found himself lying next to her, his large thumb playing on the skin of her hand.


	7. Chapter 7

-1When Hellboy awoke he expected to be in his room, with its multitude of cats and the constantly muttering televisions. Before he even opened his great yellow eyes he knew he was not where he should be. The bed was too firm and too soft to be his. The air smelled of vanilla, cinnamon and incense, which he generally loathed with a passion.

For a few frightful moments, Hellboy honestly couldn't figure out where he was and he wasn't sure if he wanted to open his eyes and find out. A bit ashamed of such cowardice, the demon finally cracked a lid and peered about. He lay in a large futon in the dark, the moon hanging cheerily through the window. After a quick glance he realized where he was and how he had gotten there.

Sitting up stiffly he rubbed his lower back and scanned the empty room for Mary.

"Stupid, hard futon," he grumbled moodily as he swung his legs off the side, groping for his boots. The woman he looked for was gone as was his long duster coat. That made him a bit more grumpy. No one took his coat without permission.

Smirking demonically at the mean little things he was going to do to her when he found her, Hellboy left her room to look for Mary. When he stepped out, closing the door carefully he came face to face with Manning with several agents who had been walking by.

The older man stopped in his tracks,a cigar in the corner of his mouth and match ready to strike, staring at the large demon who just left the newer woman's room with bedraggled hair. A couple of the more daring men and women with him also looked at him with curiosity and scandal in their eyes.

"Um, uh…" Hellboy looked about dramatically, scratching at his filed horns, as if he was a lost tourist. They continued to eye him suspiciously as he peered back into the room then down the corridor.

Hellboy flashed a clumsily surprised and abashed grin before clonking himself on the forehead. "That's not my room! Nope, definitely not mine!" He began walking down the hall away from them. "Musta got lost somehow but its alright now!" He turned a corner, yelling the last bit back. "I know that that room is not mine!"

Manning looked a bit flustered as he turned back to his colleagues, all of them either horrified or terribly amused at the whole charade.

"Must've been lost."

Hellboy groaned as he slowed his walk, hanging his head and rubbing his temples with his forefinger and thumb. Great, now the whole department was going to think he was sleeping with her.

Well, you sort of did.

Shut up; we slept, that's all.

For now.

You know what? Shut the hell up! You are just a snide part of my overactive imagination. You pop up whenever I've been home too long.

I think you're clinically insane.

Hellboy had to resist the urge to bash his head against the nearest display case of shrunken Mayan heads. Maybe he was insane.

That's what I said, wasn't it?

Growling and stomping at the absurd argument he was having in his mind, the large red demon stormed into Father's old office, nearly taking the door with him as he entered. Her smell assaulted him before he saw her, curled up in a chair next to Abe's tank; that sweet smell she tainted all rooms with.

Mary had his large soft leather cloak wrapped about her like an oversized throw blanket, her hair tumbling in loose cascades of brown-red on her shoulders with a big coffee mug in her lap. Her attention was trained on Abe's glass tank where he hung in the water, one hand pressed on the wall, his large eyes narrowed, fixed on her.

For a moment, Hellboy forgot why he was so annoyed and instead began to ponder why on earth the two of them were staring so intently on one another. From this far away he could see her eyes twitch and her hands tightening on her mug and Abe's gills flare irritably and feet kick a bit too roughly to be keeping him upright.

After a few minutes, he got too curious and cleared his throat, sick of being ignored. Abe turned in his tank, blinking a bit too slowly for him, the thin transparent eyelids sliding sideways across his dark eyes. Mary took several deep breaths before looking at the irritable demon who had just remembered why he was annoyed.

"Oh, you're up?"

"Yeah. So what makes you think you can steal my coat, Short-Stuff? Nobody steals my coat," he warned in what he hoped a suitably threatening manner. Mary smiled sweetly at him, much like she had that first day they met.

"I did."

That blew it! Hellboy glowered at her, deciding then and there that he was going to have to give her a few playful bruises while he attained his precious article of clothing. Maybe he'd give her all the gory details of as to where that certain coat had been and what sort of entrail juices it had splattered and soaked into it.

He only made it two steps before his feet stuck to the wood paneling as if he had been formed into them. Glancing down at his treacherous boot-clad feet, Hellboy then raised a brooding eyebrow at the still smiling woman.

"I can rip the boards out."

"Nope."

"Yes."

"Hehe, nope."

"Uh, yes! Yes I can!"

"Go ahead and try."

Just to prove it and to have something further to dangle over her head in a taunt, Hellboy silently struggled against the mental bond she had noosed over his legs, brow furrowed. He could feel Abe watching the fight between him and her, a bit worriedly but more amused than anything. It was harder than he thought. He managed to make his left knee twitch rebelliously but that was about it.

Suddenly, just when he was straining the most, the hold was gone. Stumbling forward, Hellboy flailed his arms to gain balance. One foot came down, the other in the air. And guess what? They froze that way, in that awkward half-run pose. With an ungraceful 'oh crap', he flailed his arms trying to get his balance again but to no avail. Solidly he landed on his rump, jarring several piles of book, his right foot stuck to the floor, bent at the knee so as to not break.

Mary smiled again at his I'm-going-to-kill-you-slowly-with-nails glare. Abe was laughing quietly, little bubbles rising in the water about his mouth, giving him away.

"Oh, you're funny. Really! Just freakin' hilarious!"

"I know."

"I'm gonna get you when you ain't paying attention."

"Thanks for the warning. I'll keep it in mind."

Hellboy gave up for the moment, crossing his arms across his huge chest, a scowling glare fixated on the young woman who was now picking at her pink painted nails. When she finally looked up at him again he dropped the glower and grinned innocently, visibly startling her and Abe.

"So…what were you two doing?" he asked in a light, casual manner as if his hoof wasn't glued to the unyielding floor. Mary blinked several times but her mental hold on his legs didn't relent.

"We were psychically grappling."

"What?"

"We were fighting each other with our brains forces instead of physically. He almost beat me before you came and interrupted," she snipped back at him, her voice taking on a haughty tone that would have put Manning to shame.

"Yes, but I have had decades of more experience whereas you are only…" Abe interjected in a complimentary voice, pausing to put his sensitive, fingerprint-less hand on the glass and focusing. "…only twenty-five and three-eighths, born August 31, 1981, Citrus Heights, California."

Mary smiled at him softly before nodding.

"Still, I could be better."

"You will be, in time," Abe amended for her, a smile on his pale green lips.

"Can I have my legs back?" Hellboy suddenly interrupted, surprised by his sharp voice. In irked him somewhat that they could be connected in such a way that he couldn't. And in that thought, he paused and considered quickly as to why it bothered him.

"Depends. Can I hold on to your coat for a little while longer?" she inquired, sugary sweet. Hellboy pondered for a moment, his golden eyes scanning her grinning face.

"Sure."

The tight, but not painful, pressure disappeared as quickly as it appeared and he was free. Getting up on his feet, Hellboy flexed both legs, making sure he had total control before grinning and marching over to the still seated woman. Abe flinched towards her but she made no move.

"Did you lie to me?"

"Yep. Now give it back."

He hadn't admitted to it until he was within grabbing range, reaching for the coat which was only an inch away. But again, her mental capabilities went beyond his expectation. His right arm suddenly tugged back, up in the air and away from her. Hanging in the air, the ground a foot below his boots, he shrugged at her, appearing unimpressed.

"That all ya got?" he asked with a challenging little smirk. As soon as the words left his lips, the energy forced him further back and up in the air about twenty feet up past the rising stairwell. The hold let go for a second, propelling him up before grabbing hold of his left ankle and jerking it. A surprised 'shit!' escaped him before he did a back flip in the air, tumbling head over foot towards the ground.

He was going to hit that ground hard. Like, shatter the damn floor and the surrounding area. It was Father's library and if it got damaged…

Luckily (for both of them) he stopped, face down, his nose and the tips of his boots touching the innocent wooden paneling. Then, he landed, right on his nose and with no damage to the upholstery.

"Ow. You're gonna pay for that one, Shorty," Hellboy grumbled angrily as he sat up, rubbing his sore face. Mary grinned, entirely enjoying herself too much. Getting up, she pranced over, her bare feet padding on the ground, his coat wrapped about her shoulders. He went to grab at her but his arms froze on the spot. At this point he could only roll his eyes.

Leaning down, Mary smiled at him in a pleasant way, her hazel eyes bright with triumph. Hellboy was in the middle of contemplating the idea of biting off her nose when he caught her scent and stopped. Her face was only a few inches away from his, her warm breath blowing on his face. For a good few seconds he found himself distracted by the cascades of rich brown red hair.

Mary blinked uncertainly, her grin fading at his dazed and somewhat dark look. But the smile was in place before she let it overcome her. Determinedly, she leaned forward again and firmly planted a small kiss between his filed horns, her lips hot against the skin.

"I know I will," she said, standing up somewhat stiffly and walking out of view, coat and all. He was going to shoot something clever at her, but his tongue felt thick and dead in his mouth, not allowing him the ability to speak.

She kissed him. Not on the lips but a kiss none-of-the-less. Liz had never semi-casually kissed him, even after the occurrence in Russia. It stunned him surely but what happened next snapped him out of it.

Quick, sharp pain lanced up his nose as if someone had tweaked it harshly. He went to grab at it but found himself still frozen.

"Hey!" he roared in a complaint, almost drowning out her laughter from the other side of the room. He heard the large doors close and felt the pressure fade. Jumping to his feet, he swung about to charge for the door, determined to make her suffer somehow.

But, as fate would have it, the door opened first and Manning walked in with a truly disgruntled look on his face. He looked as if he had just swallowed rotted milk. The very expression made Hellboy stop and wait to see what he said. Mary wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"Bad news, boys," Manning started, furrowing his hands in his expensive jacket pockets.

"Is there any other kind?" Hellboy interrupted sarcastically. Manning rolled his eyes and ran a hand over his bald head, the skin shining slightly in the light.

"Funny. We've got a problem."

"Sounds great. Where?"

"You're going out to Sweden. Seems there have been some disturbances in the northern areas, missing people, others found with missing bits or organs."

"Sounds great," Hellboy repeated dryly. "Any idea of what it might be?"

"Nope. That's your job."

"Figures. Well, I'll go try and write something that resembles a will on a scrap of something."

"Agent McArthur is coming with you," Manning added absently as Hellboy started past him. He pointed a warning finger at him, a somewhat serious look on his tired face. "You watch her. She hasn't been on the job yet."

"I know. I know," he mumbled harshly as he left, his tail swishing irritably behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

-1"I-It's s-s-so damn c-c-cold!" Mary cried in frustration, her lips a light blue color as she stuttered. Clutching her own heavy camel colored coat about her with her gray cap tucked over her ears, she huffed and blew her breath into her mittens, trying to warm her hands.

They had landed in Sweden three days earlier, about fifty miles to the south of where they had wanted to be due to heavy snow storms. With the aide of three heavy artillery trucks, loaded with gear, the caravan crawled towards its destination in the snow pummeled Kjolen Mountains. They were headed for the eastern shores to a city called Lulea where the disappearances and findings were the most frequent around the outskirts. Soon the pass would open to the sea, the Gulf of Bothnia where the ground would level out to flat, clay-like beaches.

All around were tall, jagged mountains with slopes of seventy grade and up, covered in several feet of ice and snow in some areas. The sky swirled a stone grey above, the wind whipping and blowing the sturdy trucks hard enough to shift them. It was bad, worse than Russia, Greenland, or any other northern country Hellboy had been to.

Sitting next to the woman the demon smirked down at her. They were stuck in the back of one of the trucks with the tent and food supplies. Abe was in a heated tank in another with John in the front.

"I wonder how humans do in this Iditarod sort of weather?" He commented in what was supposed to be an honest question. Mary glanced up at him from the huddle that was her arms and shrugged.

"Next time we pass someone wandering around who speaks English, we'll ask," she replied dryly, her stammering stopped momentarily. But as soon as it was gone she began sneezing. "You know this reminds of a certain cold situation I was in not too long ago."

"I bet it does," he paused, looking down at her again, remembering how sick she had gotten from that slight cold earlier. "You are gonna get sick again."

"No I am not."

"Yes you are."

"No."

"Ye-You know what? I think we have had this same argument before."

Mary sniffled, considered and looked up at him.

"Have I called you a damn big red monkey yet?"

"Not yet."

"Then it isn't the same argument, now is it?"

Hellboy frowned at her in annoyance at her shrewish logic.

"Alright, knock off the smart shit. You _are_ going to get sick," he mumbled as he opened his coat to give to her. Of course he wasn't cold at all. It takes quite a bit to freeze his crimson ass. And of course, Mary wasn't gonna let him do what he wanted.

As soon as he had opened his coat, she stood up and sat down on the inside of it, curling her legs up on the seat and tucking herself under his arm. Hellboy froze, unsure of why on earth she did this for the millionth time. Finally he wrapped his thick arm about her shaking shoulders, pulling her tight against him, tucking his warmed coat folds about her.

Mary nuzzled into his collarbone, still sniffling and inevitably drowning in his heady, masculine smell.

"You're warm. Really warm," she muttered as she shifted comfortably, resting one mitten on his large chest, feeling his heart. Hellboy swallowed a bit harshly before nodding.

"Always have been."

"Nn, well, its good for me."

After a few moments, Mary shifted again to get comfortable, resting a bit more heavily against his upper arm and lifting her feet. Hellboy nearly jumped out of his skin with his heart in his mouth when she laid her legs across his thighs, her feet dangling off the other side. Her heat boiled him with his own massive warmth and he felt sweat break out on his forehead.

"That's better," she murmured softly in a sleepy sigh, her face peeking out against his thick chest from under the heavy folds of his coat. Hellboy eased up a little, resting back against the truck wall, his left hand coming up to cup the back of Mary's drooping head as a brace. For a few quiet minutes he listened to the crunching whine of the huge tires over the snow underneath and the low crackle of the radio in the front.

"You know, Mary, I uh…" he started before looking back down at her. She was asleep…again. Her lips were hanging open slightly, rouged from the cold, her pink cheek pushed up a little from how she slouched on his chest. Hellboy winced a little before laughing as he realized that she was drooling a little on his shirt.

Shaking his head helplessly at her he bent down slightly and gently kissed her clammy forehead, taking time to feel her skin under his lips before pulling away. He licked his lips, dragging in the salty taste of her shivery sweat. Mary's eyes tightened a bit in her sleep and she curled against him more for warmth.

"Never mind, Shorty."


	9. Chapter 9

"We've got about one more day before we reach Lulea. The trucks can't keep going in the snow, though. We'll have to stop for the night," John explained as Hellboy and Mary climbed out from the back of their truck. The large demon squatted slightly, trying to work the kinks out of his knees, enjoying the air.

The wind had stopped for the moment, allowing the snowflakes to drift sleepily in the orange-grey air. The sun was about an hour before setting but the form of it couldn't be seen due to the clouds. All lines in the mountains were darkened and sharpened until they resembled teeth.

All together there were eight team members, Hellboy, John, Abe, Mary, and four other members, Agent Bowing, Jackson, White and Sanchez. Within the hour they had up four tents, each a two person, and a tarp out to sit on before bed. Abe remained in his tank in the truck, floating contentedly in the warm water. Mary had muttered earlier about just jumping in with him and growing gills, making the fish man a bit worried about personal space.

"Hey, you know what's funny?" she prompted, sitting cross legged on the tarp with her bag in her lap. Hellboy plopped down next to her, grumbling about having first watch of the night. He hated having first watch; why? He didn't know. He just did.

"What?"

"We're eating cold, freeze-dried food."

"And that's funny, how?"

"We're gonna be the same thing if we're here much longer," she grinned sadistically, pulling out a bag of Jack Links Jerky and trail mix. Hellboy rolled his golden eyes, snatching a small cooler John set down. Out of it he grabbed a beer and tossed it to the agent, then one to Mary before snatching his pick of the litter.

"Well, that's great. Really," he muttered in annoyance as he cracked the tab on his beer. The other agents finished up whatever chores were meant to be done and came to sit. Bowing and Sanchez were alright guys, as far as Hellboy was concerned but the other two he wasn't sure. White was too quiet, a bit like John but more angry seeming. Maybe he had a tampon shoved up his ass, who knew.

It was Jackson that bugged him. Maybe it was his close shaved hair and military grunt look. Or the fact that he had this snide little smirk about him, one Hellboy dearly wished to beat off of him. Or perhaps it was because he hadn't stopped eyeing the one female in the troupe since they reached Sweden.

So far, Mary had noticed but ignored the obviously suggestive glances. In fact, she clung to his side and John's more and more as the trip progressed. Inwardly it delighted the demon that she recoiled from other men's advances. But then it made him wonder if she came to him as she would a brother. Now, that was not good.

"Anyone have even a clue as to what we're facing?" Bowing asked as he cleaned his rifle for the next day. His breath fogged in the cold but it wasn't half as bad as it was when the wind blew. The air was more close and clammy than anything.

"Nope."

"Nadda."

"Mm-mm."

"Well, this is just great," Jackson drawled in feign annoyance, flopping back on the tarp, a slim cigarette in his lips. The action brought him noticeably closer to Mary's curled legs which he smiled at. "We're gonna get chomped by some goddamn monster and we won't even know what it is."

"That's the way it is. Get used to it," Hellboy replied a bit sharply, dislike practically oozing from him. The young agent switched his gaze to him, the icy blue eyes narrowing at him. "Should be used to it anyway. How long have you been working here? A couple of years now? What've you been doing? Hiding?"

Jackson glared at him before snorting a laugh at him. Sanchez cleared his throat from where he sat, a bag of dried banana chips next to him and a book in his lap.

"I think we might have a clan of some sort on our hands."

"How'd'you figure?" John asked respectfully. Sanchez was probably one of the older agents in the bureau, besides Hellboy and Abe, and had gone on far more missions than the other humans. He had a kind face despite a wicked scar which ran across his forehead and down his cheekbone on the left side. Poltergeist attacked him with a china plate in Spain in '85.

"There's almost a methodical pattern to the attacks; always a three day period between attacks and they're spaced out to make it seem more accidental. They're all also along the shore area, some on the shores of Lulea itself. Not many animals think or act like that."

"So if not an animal then-"

"Something demonic, maybe a half-breed organization, like the Bulgarian werewolf clan."

"Or it could be some crazy humans trying to summon something without getting too much attention," Hellboy interjected, grumpy with the whole situation. Not to mention the Army Brat was eyeing her again. "It does happen more often than people believe."

"Guess we'll find out," White murmured finally, his voice barely audible. He looked more sour and upset about this than anyone else in the group.

A gust of wind suddenly whipped down, causing everyone to shiver at the abrupt chill. Mary huddled into her coat, teeth chattering, as it blew through, becoming thoroughly frustrated with being cold.

"Why couldn't this happen in Cuba or something? I friggin' hate this weather!" she bitched, huffing into her mittens. Jackson grew a twisted, seductive smile, his hands tucked behind his head as he lay there.

"You should probably go inside. Wouldn't want those prizes falling off, would ya? Use my tent, its got a nice heated sleeping bag, big enough for two," he suggested in what would be an easy tone. Mary's mouth fell open and her cheeks flushed in anger at his statement. Before she could say anything, Hellboy had leaped to his feet, towering above the man who scrambled to get up as well as retrieve a gun.

Mary reached out to calm the demon but yelped instead when he scooped her up in his arms. In stunned silence she stared up at him but his golden, smoldering eyes were locked on the wary agent. The others seemed similarly nervous and concerned but said nothing. John gave her a look but she shrugged in her position.

The look Hellboy gave Jackson practically spewed death in various painful ways. In return he tried to glare back, his own somewhat pitiful compared to the seething anger.

"You be careful what you say to my girlfriend. Got it, asshole?" the large demon snarled threateningly as he turned about to head for his tent. Five pairs of mouths dropped as he walked away, carrying a shocked woman and an almost visible cloud of death threats.

Once they were out of hearing range, Mary timidly looked up at Hellboy, her eyes quizzical.

"Girlfriend?" she asked curiously. "Is that what I am now?"

"Oh, can it. He was practically asking you to fuck him," he snapped in reply as he leaned down to unzip the door. She closed her mouth and frowned at his vulgar explanation as he set her inside upon a sleeping bag. "What? Ya wanna go back there and accept the invitation?"

The serious, seething growl in his voice made her partially afraid to snip back something sarcastic. He crouched down in front of the door, still out in the snow, as he unzipped her jacket and gruffly took it from her.

"No. No, I don't."

"Then stay in here. He won't leave you alone and I really, really want the pleasure of breaking his teeth in," Hellboy ordered as he stripped off her mittens and boots. Mary nodded but frowned thoughtfully as she let him take off most of her wet outer clothing. Finally she slapped away his large hands delicately and waved him away.

"You don't have to baby me."

"Fine, I'll be back in a couple hours. Go to sleep."

In response she closed the tent, her quiet frustration radiating from the structure.

AN: Hey, next chapter is a bit naughty and its gonna get worse later on. If you see this line at the bottom of the chapter, then be careful of the next one. Explicit material, people.

J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J


	10. Chapter 10

-1The watch was uneventful, if not boring, considering he was sitting alone on the tarp while darkness fell. It gave him too much time to think and drink beer at the same time, which he discovered could be hazardous. Finally, White came to relieve him of duty and he headed for his tent.

The light inside was still on, glowing through the thick fabric, designed for below 0 degree weather. A flare of anger at her defiance of his order licked through him and he sped up.

"I thought I told you to-" he began to holler in annoyance as he climbed through the door. He stopped when he found her asleep on top of the large queen sized sleeping bag. A battery powered lantern sat next to it along with a book and a bag of Oreos, a quarter of it eaten. The inside of the tent was quite warm, built to trap heat and generate it. Not to mention she created a bit in just being in there.

What made him stop was what she was wearing as she slept. A black t-shirt with a parental advisory sticker on it adorned her torso, lifted as she laid on her back to reveal a demure bellybutton. Off to the side he spotted the hidden arch of a white bra, partially covered by her pants. She wore no pajama bottoms, only a pair of light blue panties, tight but modest over her jutting hipbones. The light pink nail polish shimmered on her bare toes in the light.

As quietly as he could, Hellboy closed the door flap as a gust of wind blew in. Mary shuddered in her sleep at the chill, rolling over to wrap her arms about a pillow. The demon gulped dryly when her bottom rose into view, along with the sharp slope of her shoulder blades.

What on earth was she doing? Was she trying to torment him? Before he lost his head, Hellboy turned to sneak back out, not sure of what he would do if he slept in there. Something warm and firm clasped about his tail, making him freeze and a bolt of electricity to soar through his spinal cord.

Already knowing what had him by the tail (haha), Hellboy attempted to breathe again before looking over his shoulder. Mary was still on her stomach, turned so that her arm was reaching back, hand clasping him. Her legs were slightly curved in the direction she was looking, which was strictly at him.

The look on her face was somewhat terrifying and yet terribly enticing. She smiled but it did nothing to alleviate the weight in his throat.

"You really shouldn't order me about so much, Hellboy," she murmured wickedly, rolling back to rest on her side, pulling back slightly on his tail. The tug made him groan lowly in his throat. He gave up and allowed himself to be pulled backwards somewhat.

"And you shouldn't wear so little in someone else's tent," he remarked as snidely as he could manage. Mary laughed at that, in that musical way that sounded more like singing.

"Its not my fault someone ordered me to sleep in his hot tent."

"Its not my fault some shmuck hits on you. You wouldn't have to deal with my 'hot tent', if he wasn't such an asshole."

Mary let go of his tail at that and sat up, her brown red hair in disarray about her face. Her hazel eyes were troubled as she analyzed him hard.

"Was that the only reason you put me in here?"

"Maybe."

"I knew I shouldn't have let you put me in here. This is just no good, is it? Haven't even been on a single mission yet and I've really fucked up already," she muttered viciously, stranding her fingers through her tangled hair, talking mostly to her knees. "I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have even thought about it."

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe perhaps I was stupid to think that you wanted the pleasure of my company as well or-,"she began in a sharply ironic voice before getting to her knees and picking up her jacket. "Or maybe someone warm to sleep next to or-" she crawled over to grab her pants and bra. "Or maybe, you know what?, maybe someone who actually wants to be here!"

Mary had just started putting her foot in a leg of her jeans when Hellboy crawled over and grabbed her wrists. He had never seen her so agitated and it worried him, despite the vague haze he was in. She glared at him fiercely, the first glare he had ever seen from her, and tried to wrench her hands away. When he wouldn't let go she tugged even harder to no avail, her feet coming up to kick at his hard thighs.

Slowly but surely, Hellboy came closer, forcing her to lie back on the sleeping bag. He wasn't sure what he was doing but the mixture of lust and hazy beer-induced fog made it easy to not think about it. With one hand he pinned her wrists above her head while the other pulled off her half-on pants. She struggled against him but in such close proximity she did nothing but rub against him, making it even harder for either of them to reason.

The feeling of their clothed flesh touching sent electric sparks up his spine, enjoying this new intense sensation.

His thick, warm chest pressed against her, partially smothering her in a pleasant way, as his legs twined in hers, the wet boots resting against her bare feet. She shuddered at the cold melted snow on her delicate toes, the sensation causing her to shiver pleasantly.

"Y-You should stop. Hellboy, stop!" she whimpered, turning her head away from him so he couldn't see her blush. One of his muscled thighs rested between her knees, the other on her left hand side. Through her thin shirt she could feel the corded muscles of his stomach and chest pressed against her, his heart thundering in song to her.

"Why?" he asked lowly, coming out more as a purr as he became daring. Slowly but surely, he leaned down and licked the jugular vein under her shell like ear. Jolting from the hot sensation he caused the woman whimpered again but stretched her neck in offering. Still her foggy brain attempted to argue.

"T-t-this could be bad for work!"

Tenderly Hellboy nibbled on the soft skin at the base of her neck, his tongue coming out to tease the flesh, softening the sting from his teeth. He smelled her hair deeply, his mind somehow turning the red chestnut of the locks to a deep black that was scented with lavender and shampoo. He could barely register her actual smell of vanilla and cinnamon.

"Fuck work," he growled against her slightly salty skin, his hot breath skidding over the fine hairs. The muscles in her arms and legs slowly eased as she allowed herself to enjoy his attentions. Only then did Hellboy release her hands, bringing one of his to twine in her hair, the human one, as his stone one clasped gently about her hip. Gently he sifted the fingers through the soft tendrils, mesmerized by the darkness of it which soaked into his fingertips.

A moan escaped Mary, rumbling up from her belly, as she ran her hands over the thick tendons in his neck and shoulders, the nails dragging teasingly along the flesh. The demon shivered at the feeling before sucking her earlobe into his warm, wet mouth, earning a surprise and heated cry. Somehow he found her voice pleasantly deep and smoldering instead of its lyrical lilting.

Without her realizing it, her legs found their way around his thighs in an attempt to bring him closer to her. As her squirming became a bit more profound, her hips gyrating against his and her back arching, he finally let go of her sensitive ear. Raising himself up on his elbows he looked down at her flushed face and her glittering eyes. She panted harshly as she analyzed him, his moist open lips and intense stare.

For a few moments he looked down at her, seeing dark brown eyes under expressive, arching eyebrows like raven wings. Midnight framed her porcelain angular face like the depths of space. But then he blinked and the vision was gone. Mary lay there, looking up at him with wide almond brown eyes, stained with spring green, her caramel skin flushed like a pink rose. Deliberately, he forced himself to remember the soft oval shape of her face and the dark color of her larger lips.

This was not Liz. It was so hard for him to remember that with alcohol in his system and a willing woman under him.

"Hellboy?"

"I'm sorry," Hellboy whispered finally. Mary blinked in surprise, confused, her breath hitching in her chest for a moment, before it clicked in her brain. She smiled softly at him before grinding her hips up against him in reply. A thundering growl echoed in the tent as he pressed back tightly, his forehead lowering to rest on her shoulder. His heart felt as if it would explode from excitement. They're hips seemed to almost meld together as he pushed himself hard against her into the ground.

To his utter and complete surprise, Mary leaned up and nibbled on his lower lip, biting the tender flesh and sucking it into her mouth. It almost hurt how her sharp little teeth tore seductively on his skin but it gave him greater courage. Pulling back from her slightly sadistic half-kiss, Hellboy gave her an approving grin before arching down for a sweeter prize.

Their lips met softly at first, his a bit bruised from her previous attentions, hers a moist but firm presence. Proving to be quite adventurous, she teased her tongues tip along the entrance to his lips as if asking for permission. From its position in her hair, Hellboy's hand slid down her neck and collarbone to her naval where he danced his fingers on her soft belly before groaning in response.

Her tongue tasted sweet like melted sugar from the Oreos as it slid into his mouth, touching and seducing his which eagerly met it. The softest moan mingled in with her wet lips as she savagely kissed the demon, her hands running down to his somewhat slim hips, tasting his golden beer-sweet spit.

Again his mind transformed Mary. The sugary taste evolved into the taste of black coffee and butterscotch candies, the ones Liz had been eating on the way to Rasputin's grave, the ones that she tasted of so far underground.

As soon as her shaky, cool hands slid under his shirt, Hellboy felt as if his pants were going to break to pieces from the strain he was under. She must have felt it or else she wouldn't have begun giggling. Little fingers, clever little fingers, crawled their way up his deep crimson skin, lightly circling the engraved markings in his chest and stomach. Each brush made him shudder and quake from the light, unbearable sensations.

All the while their tongues battled, chasing and testing one another, biting and suckling hard. Both of them were panting for breath but too enflamed to give a shit about it as their hips met through clothing. His restrained, long cock pressed tightly against her folds under her panties as they pushed together.

Hellboy's hand finally snaked under her shirt, making her moan loudly into his mouth as it traveled over her sensitive skin. Wanting to see what his hand was exploring, he pulled away enough to sit up on his right elbow, the other hand dancing in tantalizing circles over her ribcage and stomach. The black t-shirt eventually wiggled up enough to let him view the pale flesh and the red hand which teased it.

Mary laid back, letting him explore, biting her lower lip to keep back laughter and groans. His golden eyes swept, smoldering from under his ponderous brow, as he glided the pads of his fingers just over her skin. Pressing and smoothing over the flesh that made up the valleys of her ribs and hips, Hellboy leaned down and followed it with a light, teasing tongue, making her arch up into his mouth eagerly.

Liz…

No, not Liz. Mary, it was Mary.

Dipping to taste her tempting bellybutton, the demon grinned in self satisfaction before resting his cheek on her exposed stomach, looking up at her flushed cheeks and smile. Mary shifted slightly, trying hard to squash the intense stirring in her lower areas and the aching in her chest. She could feel his hard evidence against her lower thigh, slightly throbbing against her, but did her best to ignore it. Not yet…

Bringing her hand up she undid his long black hair, running her fingers through the silky strands easily. Slowly they both relaxed to a comfortable state where neither were about to die from want. Hellboy was about to move off of her legs and hips, which he was sure he was just about crushing, when he felt that curious sensation.

A million crawling hands, hot and moist, ran up and down his legs and thighs, kneading the muscle and flesh. At first, it startled him to the point of freaking out until he spotted Mary's somewhat sleepy smirk. Easing back to lay his head on her belly again, he allowed her mental touches to run up and down his back. It felt really nice actually, like a massage that ran into the skin and through the flesh instead of just the surface.

Slowly his entire body became pliable and loose from the firm and soothing hands which seemed to attack him at all angles. A low, grumbling purr echoed through his chest, vibrating on her legs.

"You're gonna make me fall asleep here, Shorty."

"Good. I wanna go to sleep anyway."

"Alright. Fine," he replied before purposefully increasing his weight on her, issuing a loud snore. Mary laughed in slight annoyance before squirming to try and escape.

"No! Not on me, Hellboy! I meant in the bed!" she hollered as his arms snaked about her waist to hold her still. Sitting up as much as possible she managed to wiggle almost away, her hips and thighs free. Unfortunately, he still had possession of her knees, which he grabbed as he sat up on his legs. A loud squeal yelped out of her as he pulled on them, dragging her towards him with a sinful grin. His large arms pulled her legs about his waist before reaching to slide her up to his lap.

A faint blush painted her face as her soft bottom came to rest on his thighs, her feet together against his lower back. Her back and head rested on the sleeping bag, hands limp above her head, pelvis raised up against him.

Once again, she flashed through his mind, different, dark and so terribly sad before he shook the mirage free and looked down at her. This was difficult, not seeing Liz when he gazed at her. It felt awful and he wasn't sure if he could really do this.

Trying to control the dangerous urges which were boiling to the surface again, Hellboy gathered her up to pull her against his chest, sitting up all the way. Mary wrapped her pliant arms about his neck, her head resting on his collarbone, mussed hair tickling his chin.

"So the bed?" he muttered tightly, not trusting himself in this position. When she nodded silently, he raised up on his knees and shuffled up to the lip of the large sleeping bag. Tenderly he let her fall back off of him, plopping gently on the covers and pillows. She shivered at the loss of heat from his larger body and wrapped her arms about her chest, legs curled to her stomach.

Sitting on the edge of the makeshift bed, he unlaced his boots and dropped them near the door of the tent. Stretching his cloven hoofs he stripped of his black t-shirt, revealing the rippling mass of red tendon and cords. Mary's eyes locked on his hoofs first, studying them quietly without much distress. When Hellboy's gaze met with hers finally, she smiled in invitation, turning on her side and curling up for sleep. Before accepting the offer, he turned off the lamp, plunging them into the dark.

Crawling up behind her in an almost feline sort of way, he pried the lip of the sleeping bag from under her and slipped in, dragging her with him. He took up most of the space naturally but it didn't bother her. Reaching back she grabbed hold of his hand blindly, pulling him closer to her back.

As soon as his bare chest pressed against her shoulder blades, Mary wiggled back to mold herself firmly against him, her legs curved with his and her bottom resting in the niche between his stomach and thighs. A soft moan escaped him from the feeling of her flesh pressed provocatively against that most sensitive area.

Whether on purpose or not, she seemed to ignore the fact and yawned, snuggling into the pillow to go to sleep.

"Good night."

Hellboy responded with a murmur, his hand playing lazily in the dip between her hips and ribcage, foggily trying to fight his brain with its need to cast illusions over the woman in his arms.


	11. Chapter 11

-1The next morning dawned but without any pleasantries. No sweet good mornings, no small kiss that tasted of morning breath. Nothing.

Mary woke up to find herself alone in the makeshift bed, shivering in the slight cold. Pushing her hair from her face, she glanced about groggily for Hellboy.

"Hey," she greeted quietly when she spotted him tying his boots near the entrance. Sitting up she wrapped her arms about her knees, watching him for a response. She frowned slightly when he didn't respond.

"Hellboy?" she called softly, reaching out to brush his forearm. The demon grunted in response before crawling over to pack whatever was lying about.

"Get dressed; we're leaving soon."

Mary lowered her outstretched hand, as if she was unsure he had ever moved. For a second she considered his disregarding attitude and how he scowled, as if someone had seriously ticked him off. Sudden tears sprang up in her hazel eyes before she lowered them to her fidgety hands.

"Oh, I see."

When John came to make sure they were ready to leave, Mary and Hellboy crawled from their tent and promptly dissembled it, pulling out their bags and rolling up the sheets. John glanced between them as he threw his bags into the back of one of the truck, his gaze worried and concerned.

"Mary, is everything alright?" he whispered lowly when she came close enough, unceremoniously dumping her backpack and several cases into the trunk. Under her gray woolen cap and red scarf, her eyes were a bit red around the edges, as if she was holding back painful tears. Quickly, she threw him a small unreassuringly sad smile before nodding.

"Alright, everybody, load up! Time to get this finished and get the hell out of here!" Bowing hollered as the engines started up crankily, whining in the frozen early morning. He waved his arms to the rest who might not have heard him from under their ear muffs and protective hoods. The snow was falling a bit heavily, sure to turn into a wailing storm later in the day.

John watched as Mary shuddered in her coat and tucked her gloved hands about herself, heading towards the cabin of the truck.

"Guess I'm stuck with Red," he muttered wearily, looking to find the large demon coming towards him. He was scowling impressively, his brow deeply furrowed and his lips pressed together in a tight line. Stomping past the human grumpily, he climbed up into the trunk, the back end dipping down and whining a little under his weight.

John rubbed his gloves together, shaking his head at what he didn't understand. Oh, this was going to be a fun ride. A bit more gracefully than the larger man, he clamored in, sealing the doors behind him. Overhead, the lights turned on a dingy orange as the truck started moving, snow falling off the edges.

"We should be at Lulea at about six or so," he began lightly, seeing if he might coax a god mood out of him. All he received was a low grunt in reply as Hellboy lit a cigar. He leaned against the wall, putting his thick, heavy boots up on a crate. The smoke furled about his head before dissipating into the frozen air.

"Jackson didn't look all that happy this morning."

"So?"

"So I would say mission accomplished, Red," John replied a bit sharply. The edge in his voice caused the demon to look at him, his eyes plainly asking what his problem was. "You wanted him to leave her alone and well, he is. Except I don't think either of you are happy about it now."

John knew that his blatant and bold statement probably shocked Hellboy but he didn't care at the moment. He never said something bluntly unless he was positive about what he was talking about. And this, he was definitely positive about.

"What are you getting at, boy scout?"

"Why aren't you two talking now? I don't know what happened last night but I think I have a good idea."

"And that would be?"

John stared hard at Hellboy, his generally soft eyes hardened in annoyance. Similarly, he glared right back, clearly annoyed with the agents proclamation. His head hurt from all the beer and he was confused, so now was not a good time to be funny with him.

But he had a gut feeling he knew what John was going to say and he really didn't want to hear it or admit to it, even to himself.

Finally John shook his head in disbelief, his face still hard in obvious dislike at his companions choice of actions. That ticked off Hellboy even more. What right did he have to pass any sort of judgment?

"She's not Liz, Red."

"Fuck you."

"You're not pushing her away because she isn't her, are you? Liz left us, Red. She left you."

"Shut the fuck up, Myers!"

John quieted for the moment and was a bit more than pleased when he saw Hellboy slump lower in his seat, his arms folded across his massive chest. At least he feels guilty, that much was apparent. Relaxing back a bit, he looked up when the sliding window between the trunk and the cab slid open with a slight clang.

"Is something wrong, John? We heard yelling," Mary called, peering through the opening, her face still flushed and sad. John opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.

"Nothings wrong. Close the window, you're gonna get cold," Hellboy snapped irritably, casting her a dark look from under his brow. Her mouth fell open a bit before tightening into a thin line.

"I hope your balls fall off!" she shouted angrily, slamming the window shut as hard as she could, causing a small crack to form in one corner. Hellboy grumbled indistinctly, sinking back down in his seat, chewing the cigar in frustration. There was no winning.


	12. Chapter 12

-1When they reached the Gulf of Bothnia, the snow was pelting down hard, blurring the spatter of lights far below that was the city of Lulea. Generally, Lulea was bustling with tourists, who wandered its vast streets and harbors but in the depths of winter, hardly anyone stirred. The snow beat the trucks as they trudged along, eyes set on the slowly advancing city, waiting for the warm hotel they had secured for the team.

The engines were still clicking in the back alley as they entered, the few hallways around their set of rooms locked off and secured against anyone who might accidentally wander in and find them. It wouldn't be good for anybody's government if someone discovered a giant red man in a bathrobe or a half-amphibious man getting a drink.

The inside was obnoxiously bright and color coordinated around pastel blues and purples like most tourist hotels. The rooms were set along the halls, four on each side. Mary immediately disappeared into the first one offered with her bags, slamming the door shut unnecessarily.

"Rest up. Tomorrow we head out, storm or no storm," Sanchez ordered sleepily, his age catching up with him. Jackson cast a withering glare in Hellboy's direction as he plodded past, going to the furthest room from Mary's.

"Don't want to hear anything tonight," he grumbled snidely, loud enough for the people left in the hall to catch it. The demon resisted the urge to grab one of the ugly vases positioned about the hall and plunge the younger man's coconut into it.

John tossed him a key to one of the rooms before heading to help the bellboys with Abe's tank, which was tipping side to side on the trolley precariously. All four of them were nervously eyeing Abe, who was floating a bit agitatedly as his water sloshed about turbidly. As they passed Hellboy, watching in plain amusement for his friend, semi-frightened eyes passed over him, upsetting the tank a bit more due to lack of concentration.

With a roll of the eyes and an annoyed shake of the head, he went around them, finding the room he was given. Number 23. Wait, 23? He glanced at the room Mary went in. 21. Great…John probably did that on purpose. Although he was tempted to demand John's room, he settled for something else: He'd just have to hurt him a little for it instead.

Hellboy was startled awake from his doze as a loud knock resounded from his door. A rerun of Jerry Springer played noisily on T.V., its light flickering into the dark of the hotel room.

"Door's unlocked," he called, sitting up straighter on the bed, his neck a bit cramped from the way he had been laying. After a moment, the door squeaked open, hazy golden light spilling in from the hall. Once it was open, the person shoved it, causing it to clang against the wall.

"Hey, asshole, I grabbed one of your shirts on accident," Mary said stiffly, a bit nastily, as she strode in. "Here."

Promptly flinging the crunched up t-shirt at his head, she turned on her heel and started to head out, her hair a mess about her shoulders. She wore one of the hotels robes, shower water dripping down her legs as she walked.

"Don't call me an asshole!" he growled in annoyance, getting off his bed, throwing it at her. The shirt hit the back of her neck, wrapping about it. She stopped dead in her tracks, reached up slowly and grabbed the garment before turning around. The look on her face almost scared him, considering how her brow was knitted together and her lips were tightened in a line.

"Fine, I won't call you asshole, you jackass, pig-headed, douche bag, fuck-face!" she yelled back, throwing down the shirt on the floor, her fists clenching. Temporarily staggered by the colorful insults, he stared at her in amazement. He had never heard such foul things from her, nor imagined she could think those words.

"Uh…what?"

Mary gave something that sounded like a snarl and a scream before whirling about. A sudden heavy fist slammed into his chest, feeling like the size of a semi trucks grill. With a loud, surprised 'oof' he flew back, tripping over the bed and bouncing off it to land on the floor behind it.

"Ow. That really stung, Shorty. Love hurts but its not supposed to be physical," he groaned, testing his chest plate as he sat up. He glanced at her to see if he caused even a smirk but she was stilling glaring like she was ready to kill. Except her hands were clenching and twitching like they were when she was grappling with Abe.

Whoa, she must really be pissed if she's struggling to control herself, he realized abruptly. With a small groan of pain, he stood up and turned to face her, his large hands up in defeat and apologies. Damn, she hit hard.

"Okay, okay…" he paused, looking up at her from under his jutting brows, his golden eyes a bit tempered. "I think I know why you are so upset."

"Oh?" she growled from clenched teeth. Tears were springing up in her hazel eyes but she somehow managed to keep them in check as well. "And?"

"And…I think you're overreacting a little bit," he said bluntly, using a lesser issue as an excuse for the real cause of his problem. He knew he had ticked her off even more when her mouth dropped open and she scowled even more, if that was at all possible.

"Excuse me?"

"You overreacted. I mean, yeah, I wasn't exactly Don Juan or something this morning but you just took it too seriously," he continued lamely, bullshitting his way through, trying to hide the problem.

"Which part? The blatant ignorance of me this morning after last night or the cold shoulder all day with no apology coming?" she demanded icily, folding her arms over her chest, eyes fired up. At first he didn't respond. "No, really. Tell me. Just so I'm sure as to what I'm 'overreacting' about."

Hellboy flinched at that, scratching at his filed horns, his tail twitching in agitation. Maybe he should have thought this out a bit more thoroughly. Well, at least she wasn't on the verge of killing him with her mind again. A quick flash of what that would be like went through his mind, giving him shivers. He refocused on her small, angry face and realized that she was getting even more furious at his silence.

"Um…both?" he blurted, getting the feeling that he was walking into a snake trap. Mary's face flushed the color of his skin and her fists clenched, the knuckles white. Spinning on her heel again, she marched toward the door, which was wide open. Crap, the whole team probably heard.

Hellboy smelled the saltiness of tears and he moved to follow her.

"Hold on a minute!"

"I can't, Hellboy! If I don't get out of here, I'm gonna kill you!" Mary cried in a broken voice over her shoulder as she bolted the rest of the way out, slamming the door.

Quietly, he listened as she went over to her room, similarly assaulting the door before loudly running. A sudden explosion went off in her room, causing the pictures on the wall to clatter to the floor, shattering. For a moment, Hellboy's heart stopped dead as the smell of smoke and blood filled his nose.

As he ran to his door, hearing the other agents, jumping awake and rushing for the doors, he was painfully reminded of Liz again. Of her implosive accidents and the extent of damage she could do. What had Mary done?


	13. Chapter 13

-1Grabbing onto the doorframe to pivot, he launched himself toward her room, where furling smoke seeped from the edges. Accidentally barreling over White, he flung open the door, greeted by a face full of foul fumes.

"Mary? Mary?!" he howled as he entered, his sharp eyes scanning the dark room. An orange lick of flame shone murkily through the smoke from an exploded television, bits and pieces scattered about along with a patchwork of glass. Overhead a fire alarm screamed incessantly, causing a pain to grow in the back of his brain.

"Agent McArthur? Someone put out that fire!" Sanchez barked as he entered, his flashlight sending a feeble beam about. Hellboy spotted her ankle from the other side of the bed and immediately went over, circling the end.

The lights flickered on as the other agents entered, yelling to one another, trying to figure out what happened. Jackson began spraying thick foam from a fire extinguisher, barely being able to put out the fire. John coughed slightly, waving his hand about his face to clear smoke as he went over to Hellboy, who was crouching by the bed.

Mary's exposed face, neck and legs were splattered with cuts and shards of glass. Blood dribbled lightly out of a couple but the rest seemed superficial. The real injury was her left hand, which was scorched an angry red, reaching up halfway her forearm. The tips of her fingers were bleeding slightly, the flesh slightly peeled away from the extent of the burn. For a moment, John thought her dead but by the way the demon's red hand rested on her pale neck he could see she wasn't.

"What happened, Red?" he asked softly, trying hard not to upset the quiet, intent demon. Hellboy shrugged slightly, his broad shoulders bobbing a bit before he reached down and scooped up the unconscious woman. Standing up, he cradled her against his chest, his human hand brushing away beads of sweat from her forehead.

Similar questions were flung to him as he walked out, especially from the hotel owners who had just arrived on the scene. Ignoring John, who followed like a brewing cloud of worry, he walked down the hall towards Abe's room. Not bothering to knock, he opened the door, walking right in.

"What was the disturbance?" Abe asked in concern as he turned to face Hellboy, his webbed hands clamping the water respirator about his gills. He cocked his head slightly to the side as he watched him set the woman down on the unoccupied bed. Abe's tank took up the entire area next to the window and t.v. where a trail of water led to him.

"I heard the explosion and was just about to come to assess the situation," he added as he came over, his large, dilated eyes analyzing the pierced skin and erratic breathing. Hellboy nodded distractedly as he began plucking out random bits of glass from her skin.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, a dead weight in his chest telling him that this was his fault. Abe placed a hand on Mary's, engulfing her twitching one within it. For a few tense moments, he merely stood there, head jerking when any vital information reached him. Behind Hellboy, John was switching from foot to foot, quickly annoying the demon.

Finally, Abe released her hand, looking down at her sleeping face curiously.

"Well?" Hellboy asked as politely as he could, despite his growing fury at the delays.

"An overwhelming amount of nerve impulses crossing synapses in her brains tissue caused a necessary burst of brain waves, releasing the strain of contained electric pulses."

"English?"

Abe stared at him blankly for a moment and if he could, Hellboy was sure he was frowning at him intently. It made him uncomfortable, knowing that Abe knew what had happened in the bedroom, either from her mind or his.

"She was angry, scared and frustrated. It built up too much without a proper conduit and she had to let it out somehow. She blew up the television when she touched it, trying to relieve the pressure."

"I thought it only worked on living things. Don't you need a brain to convince for it to explode?" John queried confusedly, as he pulled a first aid kit (complimentary of the hotel) from the side dresser. He sat on the other side of Mary, swabbing the small cuts with cotton balls as Hellboy pulled out the glass.

"Yes, but her field is a very understudied subject. Psionicism like hypnotism is still a growing class of mental usage that is still being discovered. I'm afraid what happened was a defense mechanism to save her brain from its own strains. Unfortunately, it needed to be channeled or anything around her would have been the victim. And the channel," he gingerly picked up her burned hand, carefully watching her brow as it knitted in pain, "was her hand."

"Her mind did that?" Hellboy muttered, slumping a bit forward, as if he would curl about his guilt and hide it. Abe nodded, his eyes fixed on his friend, before he looked down at Mary, his large, webbed hand testing the flesh on the hand.

"The anger and the pain did this. She has to control her anger levels carefully at all times or else this occurs or what happened to her father," he elaborated, his fluent voice a bit stiff. Gently he swabbed cream from the kit onto her fingers, the white of it turning pink from the blood. "From what I saw, she choose the lesser evil."

Hellboy refrained from getting angry, either with himself, Abe or Mary herself. Her words she cried as she ran from his room echoed through his mind and he knew the fish man heard them clearly. It still stunned him how much he had upset her, as if he couldn't believe he could do it.

As his thoughts wandered vaguely, his yellow eyes blankly watched as Abe and John bandaged the small cuts with band-aids and her hand and arm with gauze and wraps.

"She'll have to stay behind tomorrow. We have no idea what such an outburst can do to her mind or her body. John?" Abe said with a tone of authority as he went to the thermometer to check the temperature.

"Yes?"

"You'll stay behind to watch after her. We'll keep her in my room since I don't use the bed."

Hellboy was about to argue, the complaint already forming in his mind as his mouth opened but Abe managed to beat him to it.

"We don't need anything that can be a source of stress near her at the moment. Especially if she wakes up. She needs to recover," he stated firmly, a note of finality in his generally mild voice. Scowling furiously at his helplessness, the demon nodded and got up, feeling like the largest piece of crap to have ever existed. With one more look at her sweaty face and many bandages, he left the room, knowing he wasn't going to get any sleep that night.


	14. Chapter 14

-1"Most of the areas where organs were removed had definite signs of surgical precision. It was hard to tell at first due to that a lot of the bodies had been gnawed upon by animals before they were found. Also, all of the victims are men. We were unsure it was a pattern until the sixth attack," explained Gjord as he spread out photographs of the victims across the hood of his truck. It was about nine in the morning and thankfully the sky was clear. Minus John and Mary, the other agents huddled around the policeman from Lulea who was investigating the deaths. Next to him stood his partner, Emelie, who translated with her thickly accented English. They stood in front of the police station, somewhere in the heart of Lulea, amidst the rows of cars.

Hellboy picked up one, eyeing the splice that ran from the navel of one man up to his chin, the edges of the flesh layer above the organs infected and swelling from the bloated corpse. From the look of this one, the liver was taken. He looked down at Emelie through the haze of cigar smoke.

"How many have been killed?"

"Almost forty since last week. Maybe more we just haven't discovered yet," she replied, her voice deep and serious. With her blonde hair in a bun on her neck and her smooth ivory skin, she looked remarkably young next to her partner. But her sky blue eyes told a different story as well as the way she stood with a gun holstered to her hip.

Gjord looked to be about fifty, with ashy brown hair, streaked heavily with silver like his darker beard. Many wrinkles danced about his brown eyes in the creased skin, making him seem as if he was squinting. Unfortunately, he spoke no English. But fortunately for Hellboy, he spoke his language. The translation was for everyone else.

Both of them were fairly at ease and comfortable about Hellboy and Abe, which was a huge achievement for most people. Abe wore a heavy trench coat, collar up, along with a hat that reminded Hellboy of Dick Tracy. If it wasn't for his skin, he'd look like a guy who was nervous about sunburns.

"Besides the few days difference pattern, there's no discernable plot to follow. Most of the bodies have been found about five to eight days after the attacks. Only the autopsies have been able to tell us about the three day stretch between deaths," Gjord continued as he unfolded a map of the area. Red x's marked where the bodies were found, scattered about twenty miles up and down the coast. As he spoke, Emelie echoed him in English, about four seconds behind.

"So why is the B.P.R.D. involved in this? It seems almost like a general routine serial killer or cannibal case," Bowing asked quizzically, as he analyzed one photograph of a half submerged body near the docks. Hellboy chuckled darkly at his description of murderers. Routine. General. Most people weren't killers or cannibals but in this field…yeah, it was pretty common.

"See the infected flesh around each of the wounds? When our scientists studied them, they found a strange agent in the skin. A type of natural acid that is activated and only eats away at the flesh for a few moments before sealing the cut. No animal in our files or the U.N.'s have that sort of thing," Emelie explained clinically, pointing with one small finger in the pictures. White frowned in confusion.

"How does it seal it?"

"It's congeals the blood in the vicinity so no flow can come out."

"Why would-"

"It makes it cleaner. No mess. No dry cleaning," Hellboy cut in, interrupting White as a light came on in his mind. He leaned on the trucks hood, his large stone hand slightly scratching the blue paint. His clever golden eyes studied the people again. "None of the bodies were missing blood were they? That's why all of them are bloated so badly, right?" he asked Gjord in his native tongue. The older man blinked in surprise before frowning and nodding.

"No mess…not even abnormal amounts of blood in the water."

A sudden crackling disturbed the tense air, coming from Gjord's pocket radio. A man's voice echoed through roughly, speaking in Swedish.

"We found another one. This one's only three days by the look of it!" the voice said roughly. "You might want to have them see a fresh one. Over."

"Where are you? We'll be there immediately."


	15. Chapter 15

-1Hellboy almost laughed at Jackson when the agent had to stumble away, his face white, with a hand clasped over his mouth. Almost. Except most of his humor died the night before. Despite himself, he was insanely worried about Mary. He hadn't heard from John at all during the day, which only meant she hadn't woken up yet. But now was not the moment to stress on it.

They stood on the steps leading from a dirt trail to a rough wooden pier. Behind them was a small farm on the southern outskirts of Lulea, half hidden by barren trees. The elderly farmer and his oldest son had discovered the body when they were heading down to the boat around five o'clock that morning.

The waters of the Gulf were iron gray and lapped almost noiselessly on the ice which stretched about twenty to thirty feet out from the clay-like, snow laden shore. The body had been hauled closer, on top of the ice, before they had arrived and now they peered down from the wooden planks.

There was no smell from the body, luckily, due to the fact that it was mostly frozen from being submerged in below zero water. What had disgusted the younger agent was the fact that the split in the body's lower belly had allowed the intestines to freeze against the naked thighs and genitals.

"We're not sure what this one's missing yet. Its already been identified as a young man near here, maybe four miles further south," Smith indicated, pointing down the shore. He was another policeman, only he wasn't native to Sweden. Looking to be about thirty he cut no distinctive features.

Abe climbed off the pier, as agile as a cat, testing the solidity of the ice next to the body. Taking off a thick glove, he placed his fingers about the dead man's frozen wrist, disliking the stiff, plastic feeling of the skin. For a few moments no one spoke as they watched, the Swedish officials a bit concerned and confused.

"Well, this is no good," Abe finally said thickly, disorientated from the things he saw.

"What's no good, Blue?" Sanchez asked a bit impatiently. He was really wishing he could just retire. This cold weather was not healthy for his arthritis. The amphibious man climbed back on the pier and replaced his glove, looking dazed.

"He was walking along the shore, a little more than tipsy, going home from a bar in Lulea. The light was just fading and he was getting sick from the cold. Out in the water, something caught his attention. But then, his memory completely fogs over, blacked out, except for a few images and words," he explained, his large eyes glassy as he tried to pull out the memory from what he had read. "A flash of white hair, something sweet like kisses, Bylgia, then pain."

"Bylgia?" Gjord echoed vaguely, as if the word struck some chord he had forgotten or felt that he knew. The rest of the team watched him as he struggled to think as to what the name connected to, shrugging quizzically. After a few moments he gave up and offered a shrug. "It'll come to me later."

"We'll research it back in town. Sanchez, come with me to the library to do some investigating. I have a feeling we have more patience in that area," Abe offered, seeming to come out of his confusion. The older man nodded, liking the idea of being in a warm, comfy library. He paid his dues in his life, might as well do the easy part this time.

"Me and the kid'll go to the morgue and check the other bodies. Might find something," Bowing said as he emerged his face from his woolen scarf, his nose red from the cold. Jackson had finally managed to come back over, still looking pale, just in time to hear the news. Frowning, he gave Bowing an indignant look.

"Why am I going?"

"Cause you've got the stomach of a sixteen-year-old bulimic girl. That and your eyes are younger and better than mine. Might as well use them for something other than ogling women's asses," Bowing replied simply, a tone of scolding underlying it. He nodded at White. "And you should go to the archives and look up old police records. There could be something there."

White shrugged noncommittally and sneezed miserably.

"Fine, can we go now? I won't be any good if I die now," he snipped, turning about to go back to the trucks.

"Take Meyers with you! He's been cooped up in the hotel all day. Lets give him a chance to get frostbite," Sanchez yelled after the more-than-annoyingly-mellow agent. Hellboy frowned a bit as the group moved towards the vehicles, his right hand swinging heavily at his side. Sanchez spotted his scowl and he smiled slightly up at the tall demon.

"This'll give you a chance to apologize," he explained lightly, his wise eyes relaying the fact that he knew more than what he was going to admit to. Hellboy rolled his eyes, tail twitching agitatedly behind him. This was why he worked alone. Less personal drama.


	16. Chapter 16

-1Almost roughly, Hellboy threw the Reader's Digest onto the table as he leaned back in the too small wooden chair, cracking his neck. Sitting in Abe's room with Mary was driving him up the wall. She still hadn't woken up or moved for that matter. If she hadn't been breathing he would be sure she was dead.

Glancing out the window then to the clock, he found it only to be about five in the afternoon. Bowing and Abe had both checked in with information they would discuss later. Unfortunately, later was about eight o'clock when they would all come back and discuss what they found.

Hellboy really wished he was outside, wandering at the least, maybe finding something of importance. But there had to be someone with Mary and he did need to apologize. Problem was, was finding a way to do so without distressing her again. Abe had seemed worried about leaving him with her again but decided to go against his better judgment and trust his friend.

"I wonder if they have Chinese food in Sweden," Hellboy grumbled in boredom as he picked up a plastic menu from the table. His legs stuck out on the other side of the small, round table, boots tapping the wall in barely restrained uneasiness. His stomach growled in neglect, loud and demanding.

"Hey, can you send about four orders of…the pork chop platters with the potatoes? Oh and a chocolate cake? And a couple cases of beer? Room 17. Yeah, THAT room. No, no, not a piece of cake. A whole one. No, I'm serious. Thanks."

Grumbling again about his job, Hellboy dropped the phone to the receiver, letting it clatter. Another half hour or so before the food got to his room. And another three hours of boredom.

Tempted to turn on the television, he suddenly heard a small noise. Heart jumping up his throat, he turned about to find Mary awake, staring at the ceiling in confusion and pain. Quickly he walked over and sat next to her hips, the bed sinking precariously under his weight.

"Hey, Shorty, you're up," he murmured in half relief and half panic. Her tired, glazed eyes slid from the ceiling to lock on his before her lips smiled pathetically. "How do you feel?"

She thought about it for a moment, shifting a bit under the covers and wincing. Clenching her eyes shut she tried moving her fingers in her left hand before whimpering at the pain in her.

"Um…ow," she replied, voice raspy, with a small laugh. "Just 'ow'. Can I have some water?"

Getting up, he collected a bottle of water from the table before coming back, cracking it open for her. Mary struggled to sit up but found it hard with only one working hand. Hellboy slid an arm under hers and hefted her to a sitting position, leaning her back against the headboard.

Abe's tank was the only source of light in the room, since the sun had set and he hadn't felt like turning on any light. The eerie blue glow reflected off the water in the bottle as she drank thickly, choking once or twice. It played on the sweat that beaded the sides of her forehead and neck, making her seem paler than usual.

When she finished she capped it and set it on the side table next to the lamp. She stared at it as if it was some strange alien object before reaching to turn it on. A sharp hiss came from both of them as the sharp yellow light penetrated and engulfed the area around the bed, leaving the corners of the room and the bathroom dark.

Timidly and tenderly, Mary lifted her left arm from under the covers with her right, pulling it into sight. The wrapping around her fingers was dyed a light pink from the blood, staining through. For a few moments she gazed at it, testing the arm with her right hand, pushing and pressing for pain.

Hellboy looked down and inhaled, getting ready to say whatever it was that was jumbling up in his brain. He found it easier if he didn't look at her.

"I'm sorry," Mary whispered sadly, surprising him completely. If it hadn't been so quite in the room, he wouldn't have heard her.

"Uh, what? For what?" he replied a bit dumbly, not sure what on earth she was doing. Moisture stained her eyes, making them glittery and wet, as she looked up at him and her lips turned down at the edges.

"I could've killed you. I didn't mean to get so mad."

"But you didn't hurt me. Look at you; you're the one covered in bandages, with your hand all fuckered up," he argued gently, trying his hardest not to upset her again. Mary wiped at her eyes and nodded quickly.

"I know but…you were right. I shouldn't've taken it so-"

"No, no, no. Stop right there. I need to say something and I'm no good at this so don't interrupt me. Just hear me out," he interrupted before pleading for her compliance. To emphasize what he asked, Hellboy snatched up her good hand and clasped it in his human one, admiring the contrast of white and crimson. After a moment she swallowed her doubts and nodded.

"That night, I wasn't clear headed. Now don't look at me like that. I don't regret it so get that crap out of your brain now," he berated a little when she looked hurt again. "When we were…kissing…and stuff, I kept getting these images of…her, in my head. I didn't try to make it happen, it just did and it was confusing me. I mean, I loved her for the longest time and now I'm just unsure with you. I know she's not coming back and I know that I wish I could forget her. Its just hard. D'you understand?"

Mary gazed at him, still seeming terribly sad and disheartened, but nodded sympathetically. He stopped, closing his eyes and trying to think. When she squeezed his hand in reassurance, he continued slowly.

"I'm sorry about yesterday morning and I'm sorry about upsetting you so much last night. I didn't mean what I said. And I'm sorry about this," he finished regretfully, touching the back of her left hand gently as it lay on her stomach. Mary hid a wince before smiling weakly.

"I'm actually kind of proud of myself," she admitted in an odd voice, trembling slightly. Hellboy rose his eyebrows, clearly wondering how she could be. "I was able to contain it this time. No one died."

"Oh."

A couple moments of thoughtful silence passed, where he merely stared at their hands, his large thumb brushing over the back of her wrist. When she squeezed his fingers again he looked up to find her smiling again.

"Lets go a bit slower. I'm not letting go of you though," she said quite seriously, her hazel eyes holding his firmly. "Alright? You can't leave me yet."

Hellboy laughed a little at her but nodded.

"Okay."

"So, how's it been going since I K.O.'d?" she asked in a lighter, pleased tone. For the next half hour he explained what they had gone over and discovered that morning and what was going on at that moment. Mary merely listened carefully, watching him and looking about Abe's room. When he finished he lit a cigar and smoked it slowly, enjoying the taste.

"You look so tired," she stated suddenly, reaching out and touching his cheek, the thumb brushing over his furrowed brows. Hellboy gave a small grunt in reply before pressing his face into her palm, golden eyes fixed on her. Mary smiled slightly, kneading and feeling the tension in his forehead and cheeks. He even allowed her to test the bony stumps of horns on his head, enjoying her attention.

"Promise you'll sleep tonight?" she asked worriedly. Again he laughed at her concern.

"Here you are, lying in bed, all covered in cuts and you're worried about me skipping on a couple of hours of sleep?" he chuckled ironically. "Alright, alright, I'll try," he amended when she pouted.

After room service arrived, he forced her to eat at least one plate of food while he ate the other three along with about five beers and two thirds of the cake. For a quiet moment after dinner, they merely sat together, studying, wondering the mystery of the other and what was to happen. Mary gave him a trembling smile, her lips quirking slightly in the silence as a sign of affections she couldn't voice.

In response, Hellboy reached out and gently enfolded her undamaged hand in his own, a teasing shadow of a grin flickering over his own face. A soft sigh slipped loose from Mary and she relaxed even more against the prop of pillows, content with the moment.

That is, until the doorknob turned and work returned.


	17. Chapter 17

"The name Abe found turned out to be that of a Norse semi-goddess, one of nine sisters, daughter of Ran," Sanchez said as he read from a compilation of notes they had gathered from the library. "The ones we found were Bylgia, Dafn and Jarnsaxa, also called the Wave-Maidens and the Temptations of Odin. Apparently, their mom was a real randy sea hag-"

"Crap."

The congregation paused at the interruption before turning to look at the grumpy, smoking demon. The team had gathered again in Abe's room so the amphibious man could rest in his tank and for Mary. Neither John or White had shown up yet from the archives, probably due to the weather. Scattered about the room, they all gave a semi-curious look at Hellboy.

"I'm taking it that you've had a couple of encounters with sea hags?" Bowing asked unnecessarily, his slight grin showing he already knew. The large red man grunted in annoyance, sulkily puffing on his cigar from his chair next to Mary's bed.

"Oh, more than a couple. A good dozen or so, if I remember correctly," Abe interjected, his watery voice a bit humorous. Hellboy cast a death glare at the fish man, silently threatening him with dehydration, which he promptly ignored. "The last one in Madagascar tried to make him her immortal lover…or an everlasting snack, we never really figured that part out."

"Abe? I hate you sometimes."

"Likewise."

"Ahem, anyways…this Ran, it says, captured sailors in a net and dragged them down into the sea so she could do the 'ugly'. Apparently it took a couple of times for her to figure out that people drown in water," Sanchez continued on, overwhelmingly amused at this. "Well, no shit, Sherlock."

"Hey, no one ever said these kind of things were intelligently thought out," Bowing snickered, munching on a breakfast muffin he had somehow snagged from the main dining room.

"So that explains why so many bodies are being found."

"Yeah, but the cause of death is wrong. There was water found in their lungs but the death was caused by the removal of organs and shock," Jackson objected, holding a case file in his lap. Mary cast him a quietly disliking look but said nothing. Being a bitch to him would help with nothing. Besides, Hellboy's action out in the mountains seemed to have taken hold in Jackson's thick skull.

"The kind of people killed is wrong too. The information said sailors but none of the men were."

"She probably used her daughters to lure them from the land into the sea. Its not that easy to snag a person from modern day boats with a net," Abe replied blatantly, as if he had actually attempted it. And from the looks on his comrades faces, no one seemed to express a doubt.

"Okay, that explains a little bit but why is it happening now? If it was a slow happening occurrence, the BPRD would have been involved years ago," Mary said suddenly, a small frown on her brow. When they looked at her, she turned a light shade of red. "Right?"

"Yes, that's true. It would help if Meyers and White came back from the archives with any records. We might be able to trace a pattern," Sanchez muttered, at first affirming her suspicion then steadily growing a bit agitated by the missing agents. Bowing, who was studiously looking through the notes from Jackson, suddenly started snapping his fingers, to draw attention and to try to click a bit of info in his mind.

"The…pieces…missing…all add up to a full internal human anatomy. Stomach, intestines, kidney, lungs, heart, all taken from separate victims," he started a bit foggily, realization slowly dawning on him as he looked through the list of missing organs. A look of vague disgust and horror came across his face. "All except for the brain and the penis."

"Oh, I pity the fool who loses that," Jackson laughed a bit uneasily, shifting his paperwork over his lap in discomfort.

"Well, then, you should stay far away from the sea, huh?" Hellboy snapped a bit snidely. "Cause they definitely won't be going after your brain."

Jackson cast a withering look at him but deigned not to argue with him for safety of said anatomy. Sanchez resisted the urge to laugh at the younger agent and opened his mouth to say more but was cut off by Abe. The thud of his hand abruptly hitting the wall of his tank drew their attention.

"John's here. There's something wrong; he's bleeding," he said sharply, kicking his legs in agitation towards the surface to put on his breathing unit.

All at once, the male agents in the room leaped to their feet, scattering papers, muffins or what not, reaching for guns and heading out the of the room. Hellboy followed behind Bowing as they spread out down the empty hallway, trying to find the wounded man.

"Where is he, Abe?!" he bellowed as he looked about, testing doors to find them all locked. He glanced back to see Mary leaning against the doorjamb, watching on in concern, hair plastered oddly to one side.

A semi-heavy weight blundered into his side as he turned back to look forward. He had passed a side corridor when it hit him, hardly hard enough to move him. Immediately snatching at whatever it was, he found himself holding onto the wet coat lapels of John. The smaller man clasped his wrists, struggling to speak, blood streaking the skin of his face from a large cut in his hairline.

"Hey, hey, calm down, boy scout. I've got you," Hellboy released him only to grab his arm and lace it over his broad shoulders. "I've got him. C'mon back."

As he spoke through his radio, the large demon half carried the murmuring John back to Abe's room with Mary's help. She took his other arm and slid under his shoulder, trying to help prop him with her shorter height.

"Put him on the bed and get him out of his coat and shirt. He haimmediately when they came in as he dug out his medical instruments from a bag. Mary stood back as Hellboy gently pulled off John's coat and tore off the ruined shirt. A large splotch of crimson seeped from his ribcage down to his hips, staining the flesh.

The younger agent was hardly conscious when Abe finally came over and began examining the wounds. Tender, webbed fingers probed the skin about the gash that opened like a mouth spitting blood when he breathed. The sight of it made Mary slightly sick and she clasped a hand to her mouth in worry. It was wet and sticky. Looking down, she discovered that her hands were coated in blood and her bathrobe was stained as well.

"McArthur, please get some damp washcloths and water. We need to get this blood cleaned up before I can stitch it," Abe suddenly cut into her horrified thoughts, probably catching them on the air. Grateful for something to do to help, she scurried to the bathroom as the other agents came in.

"We were outside, checking the perimeter," Bowing explained, a little out of breath, coat dusted with snow. "We didn't find White anywhere and he's not responding on the radio."

"What happened, John?" Hellboy asked softly, attempting to waken the agent from his shock but talking to him. Mary came in the a bowl of water and kneeled on the floor. As gently as possible, she began mopping up the dried blood and the new blood with a wet towel, soaking up the remains.

"We…we…were walking through the snow-" John gasped, his words stuttering badly from the pain. His eyes rolled up inside his head before he winced and took a hard breath. "No cabs. Had to walk…docks…"

"Jesus fucking Christ," Bowing breathed, voicing everyone's sudden panic.

"White spotted an arm in the water…someone drowning-jumped in. I followed but lost them in the waves."

"These cuts were made from ice. He was not attacked by the daughters," Abe added distractedly as he injected John's arm with a pain killer after bandaging the gash in his head.

"We're gonna call in Gjord and report in White. See if we can head out tonight to look for him," Sanchez said, his voice hard and a bit forlorn. A quick glance about the room and everyone knew what they were all thinking. There was nothing to find for a few days.

Once Sanchez left with Jackson, Bowing went to call to the BPRD base in America to update their progress and report White missing. s a cut on his side," Abe instructed Silently, Hellboy watched as Abe stitched up John expertly with Mary mopping up whatever blood was still escaping. He knew Meyers would live through it but the man's pale, sleeping face made him a bit worried. He was out of the job now. There was no way he could run about with those wounds.

"That'll do. He's lucky it didn't go any deeper," Abe said as he covered the new stitch in an adhesive wrap, sliding it about his slender torso. Packing away his equipment, he instructed them to take John to his room and make sure he was left covered due to the fever he was running.

J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J J


	18. Chapter 18

-1"Will John be alright? He looked so pale," Mary asked worriedly, her brow creased heavily in concern, as they closed the door to Hellboy's room. She went over to his window to peer out the heavy curtains at the snow.

Hellboy leaned against the wall by the door, arms crossed, watching her silently. Mary turned to look at him, curiously, before looking down at her fiddling hands. Blood caked her bathrobe which she still wore about her loosely, some smears and droplets but many in the form of handprints. Her hands, which were still stained with dried blood, cracked like river beds.

"I'm sorry about needing to be in here. I'll sleep on the floor," she murmured apologetically, slicing through his thoughtful observation. Hellboy raised an eyebrow at her before shaking his head. Her room was still under maintenance (all being paid for by the BPRD) and Abe's bed was now soaked with blood, much like her face.

"Its fine. And don't worry about Meyers. He's toughed it out through worse than this," he replied finally, walking up to her. He towered over her, intimidating her a little bit. Reaching out he touched the curve of her cheek, his thumb rubbing out a splotch of red. It almost looked like he was absorbing himself back in from her skin.

Mary shuddered a little bit before looking up at him fully. A print of a bloody hand went across her mouth, the fingers traversing her cheeks and the palm on her jaw. A couple strands of wild hair was crusted with it as well.

He took a moment to look at her hair. She shouldn't of gone to bed with it wet; it looked like a tornado had passed through and riled it up. But it looked incredibly soft despite the obnoxious curls.

Mary stood absolutely still as the demon's crimson hand skirted from her cheek to the back of her neck, the fingers sifting into her hair. The bones in her spine seemed to freeze together despite the chills which ran through her flesh as he leaned down, burying his nose into her hair next to her ear, breathing heavily.

What was he doing? She wondered dizzily. Hadn't he wanted to take things slower? Perhaps this was helping with his confused attachment to a woman a thousand or more miles away.

Thoughts blacked out from her mind when his giant stone hand clasped about her cinched waist and his tongue whisked out to tease the edge of her ear. A bit groggily she allowed her head to roll back, exposing her neck, glazed eyes locking on his smoldering golden ones.

Hellboy panted a little, trying to bring down his heart rate. He wasn't a hundred percent sure as to what he was doing but it felt right. Perhaps that is what he should go by, what he felt not what he thought.

"We should get that blood cleaned up," he offered in a low voice, his hand bringing her closer to him, molding her against his chest. Mary licked her lips thickly before nodding.

Quickly he snatched her up, making sure to not hurt her bandaged arm, before heading towards the bathroom. After flicking on the light with his tail, he set her down on the toilet seat. Mary kept her eyes locked on him intently as he tauntingly backed up and went to the sink, soaking a towel and barely wringing it.

"Its sort of funny. You look nice in red," Hellboy laughed as he kneeled down in front of her. A small, silly grin crossed her mouth, causing it to crack open before sealing up again. Softly he ran the towel across her face, rubbing off the flakes of blood with the cloth and his hand. Whenever his hand crossed her lips she would give it a passing kiss or tease the palm with the tip of her tongue, causing his heart to leap up his throat.

Once her face was clean, he put the washcloth against her neck and squeezed, causing water to trickle down her flesh. She shuddered at the feeling of cold water running down her throat and collarbone. Pressing his palm on her collarbone, Hellboy let his fingers spread out, the deep red of them seeming to grow brighter against her wet skin.

Slowly but surely, he let his hand slide lower, the short nails dragging, nudging open the soft folds of her bathrobe. A tiny gasp escaped her as her head fell back to rest against the cold wall behind her. He paused, looking up to her face to make sure he wasn't upsetting her.

Judging by the way her eyes were clamped shut and how her lips fell open, he decided he was doing something right. Almost timidly he leaned in, pushing between her knees and kissed her softly as his hand slid further in, swallowing her cry of surprise. Mary responded eagerly, her tongue racing out to battle with his for dominance as her arms wrapped themselves loosely about his shoulders.

Still on his knees, Hellboy lowered his mouth to her neck, suckling a little on the area under her ear, biting softly. In response, she groaned and reached her good hand under his shirt, demanding to touch his broiling skin.

Pulling away for a moment, he quickly tugged off the t-shirt and flung it in some random direction. Her hand pulled him back to her, the exposed skin from her robe pressing against his red flesh.

Again he snaked his hand up into her robe, pressing the skin of the area between her ribs above her bellybutton before smoothing it upwards. Their lips were poised only a few centimeters away from each other, their breath , mingling and sweltering. Slowly he brought his hand further up, cupping incredibly soft skin and tender flesh.

Moaning softly, Mary's back arched into him, offering more of herself to him. Again her lips fell away and her eyes squeezed shut as he gently probed and tested her breast, kneading.

In fascination, Hellboy watched her face as he continued his ministrations. A sudden gasp awarded him when his thumb brushed over her hardened nipple, causing him to do it again, pinching. Her full breast nearly filled his large hand, making him shudder a bit at the realization.

Using his stone hand he pushed the shoulders to her robe completely off her, falling to her elbows and exposing her to his sight. Mary's head was still back on the top of the toilet, her breath coming in faltering puffs. A small grin crept onto his face when her hands (or at least one of them) roughly grabbed his hips and pulled them tightly against her pelvis. That smile was wiped off his face when she rubbed herself harshly against him, back arching to press her chest skywards.

Groaning lowly in his throat, Hellboy let his forehead thump against her collarbone, the stumps of his horns pressing into her neck. Only a half centimeter away from his eyes was her slightly sweaty skin, heaving and straining, barely touching his lips. Eagerly, he dipped his head lower and ran the tip of tongue down in circles on her flesh, relishing her pleased gasp.

"Hellboy…" she sighed softly, her arms coming up to wrap about his neck, one hand undoing his hair. In response, his own hands slid down the inside of her robe against her back, snaking to cup her soft, firm bottom. For a moment he blankly remembered that one of his hands was made of stone and that it might hurt her. When she moaned loudly he ground himself against her, pulling her hips roughly, breath panting on her breast, and forgot about his concerns.

By now, the white garment was barely hanging on her, just barely about her waist, leaving her almost completely exposed to him. Hellboy's pants were, by now, about a million sizes too small, restraining him to the point that it hurt.

Almost timidly, he flickered his tongue over her hard bud which was the color of creamy mocha. Maybe all that sweet coffee had finally taken her over, he thought foggily. He repeated the action a couple times, enjoying her cries and the way her hand tightened in his hair.

Suddenly, a hot wet sensation slid up his back, causing him to grunt in surprise. He looked up to see Mary watching him with half-lidded eyes, the brown and green of them smoldering hungrily. The feeling ran up his spinal cord and splayed about his shoulder blades, teasing the tough corded muscles and sweaty flesh. As it crawled upwards it spread out as well along his thighs and upwards, caressing his straining hot flesh.

Biting her nipple a bit harshly, Hellboy allowed his human hand to leave her bottom to creep to her breast. Kneading tenderly, he leaned in and kissed her in an almost bruising way, tongue plunging in to meet hers.

Rather suddenly Mary pulled away, hitting her head on the back of the toilet. Her lips were wet and pink from kissing and her cheeks were blushed heavily. In confusion, Hellboy frowned slightly at her, his hands stilling wherever they were.

"What's the matter?" he panted, trying his hardest to not just continue and finish what they started. She studied his face for a moment, taking in his fiery gold eyes and the way his midnight hair tangled about his neck and shoulders. He seemed so hungry and desiring and that was what stopped her.

"This. Do you want this? I do but are you ready?" she replied simply, her voice amazingly clear and unconfused despite the situation. Her fingertips danced along his thunderous brow, tracing the tiny wrinkles in the corner of his eyes and the contours of his nose and lips.

For a moment, Hellboy thought, as hard as it was when all his blood was currently down south. It amazed him that he had not yet thought of Liz since they had entered his room. He didn't want to. But then again, he wasn't sure if he wanted Mary fully yet. It did feel a bit premature now that he pulled his attention from her shining flesh and lips.

"No. Not yet," he sighed regretfully, his eyes watching hers for understanding. Slowly he slid his hands free from her, the finger pads enjoying the feeling before leaving. A loving smile graced her lips and she shrugged, not bothering to cover up. The movement caused her breasts to jiggle, drawing his gaze.

"Alright. But are you ready for this?" she murmured teasingly, leaning into him and dipping her lips to his neck. Hellboy's back stiffened when her tongue ran in circles about his jugular, teeth grazing. She paused, not drawing away, her hand tracing the pattern of lines about his shoulder. He realized dazedly that she was waiting for a response.

"Yes," he croaked thickly, the word turning into a strangled cry as her mouth latched onto the spot, sucking and biting. At the same moment her clever hand, which had crept to the hem of his pants without notice, darted down and pressed against his rock-hard erection.

He could feel her grinning into his neck as he rocked his hips upwards into her hand. Mary scooted forward, her bottom barely resting on the seat as her mouth kissed down his chest, tongue swirling into the grooves of designs. Her hand firmly rubbed him against the cloth of his pants, the nails dragging around the thickness.

"And this?" she whispered, her lips ghosting over his nipple, hot breath giving him shivers. Her hand drew away and danced to the button of his pants, waiting.

"Please," he moaned before he could stop himself. It sounded odd to hear that word slipping free, almost alien despite his unmistakable deep voice. Mary laughed quietly as her deft fingers snapped open the button, sliding open the zipper.

Somehow she managed to wiggle his pants down his hips, freeing his long, waiting cock, the tip sporting a small clear drop. Hellboy held his breath tensely when she looked down, a semi-shocked smile growing on her face. Locking him with her gaze, she grasped his length surely, the thumb circling the tip, wiping the liquid about the area.

"And this?" she asked in response to his haggard groan. Hellboy felt himself being guided back to the floor, the cool wall pressing into his back. It was her powers allowing him to be eased down for surely he was too big for her to do it by herself.

When his vision emerged from the white haze of pleasure, he found her between his knees on the floor, robe completely gone. For a fogging moment he merely looked at her, staring at the gentle curves of her shoulders, at the tumbles of spiced hair that curled about her smiling face. Her breasts hung like ripe fruit as she lowered down to her elbows, hands clasping him again. He shuddered but stared on, absorbing the almost glowing skin of her back that he could see, the plump rises of her bottom as it rose into the air behind her.

Her hand squeezed harshly on him, jerking him to reality. Focusing on her again, he realized she was waiting again. But his restricted throat wouldn't allow more than a low whimper and it almost embarrassed him until she smiled again.

Mary kept her gaze locked on him, fires dancing in the green flakes of her eyes, as she leaned forward on her elbows and began placing small kisses on his hipbone. Her hand danced up his ribcage, tickling the flesh and muscle there. All her weight rested on her wounded elbow and if she was in pain he couldn't tell.

Just when her taunt of wispy breath and small tongue swirls were about to drive him insane she took pity on him. A loud growl came from his belly as her lips locked about the tip of his cock, sucking hard. His human hand wrapped itself in the soft tendrils of her hair as his hips rocked upwards.

The wandering hand wrapped about the base of his shaft as her tongue slid into the slit, licking away whatever cum had leaked free. As her fingers gripped and glided up the firm red flesh, she slowly took him deeper into her mouth, the hot heat of it nearly making him explode then and there. Surely but swiftly she bobbed her head, managing to take in about half of his turgid length. But with her mind she made it seem as if all of it was encased in wet infernos.

Moaning unabashedly, Hellboy felt his head fall back against the wall, his hips thrusting upwards. His pants were restricting movement of his legs but he couldn't bear to pull away to yank them off. Hot white sensations ran through his veins, blinding him in the intense pleasure. All of his blood felt as if it was bubbling in his flesh, turning him into a furnace.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and on his upper lip as Mary continued slowly, surely but carefully, taking her time to drive him crazy. Some sound of pleading must have escaped him for she sped up, sucking hard and dragging the tips of her teeth and nails on the skin. He could feel it coming, the way his heart beat irregularly, the way his hand fisted in her hair and how his muscles tensed and strained.

Hellboy wanted to warn her but couldn't seem to find the voice. With a unrestrained roar he felt his cock throb and twitch in her mouth before he came, exploding hard and fast. Mary pulled back enough so it hit the roof of her mouth, gathering on her tongue. Firmly her mind held his hips steady so he could not gag her as he pressed all essence from him into her mouth.

He felt her crawling up, her hands resting on his shoulders and her cheek resting on his neck. The blur that the world had been gradually came into focus. Looking down, he found her resting against him, straddling his hips, his member tucked away again. He discovered her grinning, her hand dancing on his neck as he heaved for breath.

"Happy?" Mary whispered quietly, her skin pressing against his hot chest, rubbing gently. Hellboy smirked and nodded, trying to steady his quaking arms as they folded about her.

"Yes," he replied, unable to find too many words. He decided promptly that it would have cheapened the experience anyway. For a few minutes he rested his cheek on the top of her head, feeling her heart fluttering against his skin like a small bird. It was so comfortable and he wished he could just stay there, holding onto her, no job, no work, nothing else.

"Mm," Mary hummed, forcing herself to sit up, despite the grogginess that was evident in her eyes. Her hair fell in her face as she ran her hand over her brow and eyes. "You promised me that you'd sleep tonight. Lets go to bed."

Hellboy almost groaned at that. She never gave up on caring for him.


End file.
